Barred owls among birds gracing Sunkhaze refuge

The group of us stood in the middle of the boardwalk as twilight deepened. It wasn’t totally dark yet, but it was getting close; the trees surrounding us were visible as faint silhouettes. The sudden rain shower earlier had moistened the soft ground and a damp, earthy scent permeated the air.

U.S. Fish and Wildlife Biologist Ron Joseph, our trip leader, had just shown us a spotted salamander in the vernal pool underneath our feet. We were in the Sunkhaze Meadows National Wildlife Refuge in Milford, which is composed of 9,337 acres of forested uplands, riparian zones, cedar swamps and the second-largest bog in Maine.

Spring was young, and the water in the ephemeral pools still cold; it was not high time for amphibians yet. So our attention turned to owls as Ron attempted to call one in. His barred owl imitation – 8-9 hoots represented phonetically into two phrases as “who cooks for you, who cooks for you all-l-l-l-l,” was so good it could fool an owl – and did. One alert member of the group saw the owl fly in to a tree not 20 feet away. He put a hand on Ron’s shoulder. “He’s right here,” he whispered.

We couldn’t see details of the owl, only its outline against the darkening sky as it craned its neck to peer down at us. It responded to Ron’s imitation of an owl’s territorial hooting by voicing a quick, intense series of hoots, as if to say, “Who goes there?”

Ron and the owl talked back and forth for several seconds. Ron mimicked another type of barred owl vocalization sounding like “who-who-who ah ah ah ah ah-aww,” which is very monkey-like. This, he explained, is more of a conversational call used between two owls. If it was conversational, the owl was having none of it.

We moved on to avoid further disturbing the owl, which flew ahead of us into the trees. As we emerged from the trail, we heard the owl’s hooting behind us – “Get out and stay out!” it seemed to be saying.

We took the hint. Although it would have been entertaining to stay awhile, it is important to not overdo such actions as this. Calling owls in this way is a vital census tool, but used too much can be detrimental to the birds as they waste energy in responding to false threats. Eventually they may stop responding at all, or move out of the area altogether.

We stopped at a second vernal pool, where we found more spotted salamanders and a blue-spotted salamander, as well as several wood frogs and a wood frog egg-mass. This rounded, compact Jell-O-like object, attached to underwater vegetation just beneath the surface, can contain thousands of eggs. In comparison, spotted salamander egg masses may contain up to 200 eggs. These are also attached to underwater vegetation, though deeper in the water column, and are more oval in appearance. We did not see any salamander egg masses, although from the looks of things these would be coming along soon.

We moved on from this scene of amphibian fecundity to a third spot. Here Ron tried calling a barred owl again and we were rewarded by a distant response. This prompted someone to ask about barred owl territory size, which, during the breeding season, can be one square mile. Ornithologists have observed these owls to maintain territories for years; it is also thought that the bond between two mated owls is permanent and monogamous.

Interested in joining such an outing in the future, getting more information, or in volunteering on the refuge? Do what I did: Contact The Friends of Sunkhaze Meadows. You can visit their Web site at www.sunkhaze.org/about.htm, or contact Pamela Wells, 32 Gilman Falls Ave., Old Town, ME 04468. Or contact the refuge headquarters at: Sunkhaze Meadows National Wildlife Refuge, 1168 Main Street, Old Town, ME 04468-2023.

Chris Corio, a volunteer at Fields Pond Audubon Center in Holden, can be reached at fieldspond@juno.com