My companion, Chuck Tague, and I have been driving through Mingo Creek and stopping in areas with good owl habitat -- thicker patches of deciduous trees. This particular stop is our third. Chuck, who is a far more experienced birder than I, stops suddenly along the road and presses the play button on the tape recorder that he carries at waist level. The recorder projects the eerie call of an Eastern screech owl (Otus asio) through an otherwise silent portion of Penn's woods. The call does not sound at all like the hoots that many believe to be typical of owl calls; it sounds more like a high-pitched, spiraling horse whinny. Chuck and I both wait anxiously with our ears pricked and our eyes alertly scanning the trees for movement. A light breeze causes the branches to sway slowly up and down and side to side, making it very difficult to notice any other movement in the trees. On our first two stops we had not seen or heard an owl of any kind. It seems that this site as well is doomed to be a disappointment. Perhaps the temperature, in the low teens, is keeping the owls from calling, or maybe Chuck and I had made too much noise walking from the car. Just as I am losing my final shred of hope that I will see or hear an owl, an owl almost directly overhead responds to the tape. In my surprise at finally hearing an owl at such an unexpected moment, I almost miss the call of another owl directly behind us on the other side of the road. I turn, hoping to catch a glimpse of the second owl, just as the first owl lands on a branch 20 feet over our heads. Chuck and I are both showered with ice shaken loose by the owl's landing. Quickly, Chuck shines his flashlight above us so we can see the owl, but it has already flown off. Unfortunately, the owl across the street stopped calling while we were occupied with the owl above us. We are both contented and speak quietly as we hustle back to the relative warmth of Chuck's car.

By the time we leave Mingo Creek, it is past five. We have walked over a mile on foot, driven six miles in the car, heard five Eastern screech owls and one great horned owl (Bubo virginianus). Shortly after leaving Mingo Creek, Chuck reaches up to remove his hat, only to find the brim covered with feces. It seems that the first owl we saw dropped more than ice on his head. We pull over and Chuck cleans his hat and hands in the snow. When he climbs back into the car he tells me, "Sometimes you get an owl, and sometimes the owl gets you."

By the time we reach the parking lot off of West McMurray Road, it is already morning. We identify an eighth and final screech owl, which we hear far off in the distance. Chuck and I spend the very early morning driving through a scrubby, grassy area in hopes of finding a short-eared owl (Asio flammeus), but we are disappointed again.

All told, we are quite satisfied with the results of our owling trip. We finished with eight Eastern screech owls and a great horned owl. Unfortunately, we did not identify a barred owl (Strix varia), and we also missed some of the less common birds, such as the Northern saw-whet owl (Aegolius acadicus), the long-eared owl (Asio otus), and the short-eared owl. These omissions, however, do not discourage us greatly.

We now drive to the residence of Kris Ross, who joins us for the morning and afternoon portions of the Christmas Bird Count. In her yard we recognize dark-eyed juncos (Junco hyemalis) and northern cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis), among many others. Once Kris is ready, we depart and meet with Dan and Sam Tatomir, who also join us for the remainder of the count, near an appointed intersection. Dan and Sam take a road to the right, while Chuck, Kris, and I take a road to the left, a former railroad track, which has since been torn up and paved. Both groups meet after about a mile when the two trails again meet. The most prevalent species seem to have been northern cardinal, American goldfinch (Carduelis tristis), and white-throated sparrows (Zonotrichia albicollis). Perhaps the most interesting bird identified along this route was the somewhat uncommon pileated woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus), which flew overhead. We continue on again to a cooling reservoir near a coal mine. Along the way, though, Chuck sees something out of the corner of his eye and slams on the brakes. We all pile out of the car in time to see an uncommon, elusive winter wren (Troglodytes troglodytes). This is a bird that I saw last year at the Christmas Bird Count in Washington, Pennsylvania, but I had barely gotten a glimpse of it then. This winter wren is a very special and unexpected treat for me, as it is the first time I am able to see one clearly. Unfortunately, the wren soon disappears into a nearby thicket, and we decide to head on to the coal mine lake.

The coal mine lake is an especially good spot to look for waterfowl because it is warmer than most of the nearby bodies of water and rarely freezes over. Here we see over 300 Canada geese (Branta canadensis). We also see two American coots (Fulica americana), which are black, white-billed rails that behave very similarly to ducks. While the American coot is not very abundant in western Pennsylvania, it is easy to find any time of the year. Through the steam rising off the surface of the lake, we can make out a duck of some kind heading towards us, and when it is within sight we are pleased to see that it is a ring-necked duck (Aythya collaris). The ring-necked duck is uncommon in Pennsylvania and often difficult to find outside of migration. This being my first sighting of this particular species, I take special note of its dark coloration and its distinctive white and gray flanks.

We stroll a little further to a stream into which the reservoir empties. Here we find almost 200 mallards (Anas platyrhynchos). We are very content as we head back towards the cars. Just before getting into his car, Dan Tatomir notices a hawk resting in plain view on a tree limb a hundred yards distant. He correctly identifies this bird as a Cooper's hawk (Accipiter cooperii). Usually this species is seen in flight, so it is very interesting to get a clear, long look at one at rest. We drive down the road along the stream and park in the same parking lot where Chuck and I had stopped for our eighth screech owl earlier this morning. We walk along the stream and see about 200 more mallards, a wood duck (Aix sponsa), and a belted kingfisher (Ceryle alcyon).

My last stop is at Canonsburg Lake. For the second time today, it is very disappointing. Here we see only one northern cardinal in 15 minutes of birding. Discouraged in my final stop, I get in the car, and we all head to a nearby restaurant for lunch. Unfortunately, I am not able to continue birding further into the afternoon because of a conflicting appointment. Next year, however, I will return to spend a day learning about the avifauna in my region and participating in the 102nd Christmas Bird Count.

McWilliams, Gerald M. and Daniel W. Brauning. The Birds of Pennsylvania. Ithaca: Cornell UP, 2000.

Sibley, David Allen. The Sibley Guide to Birds. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2000.