We thought we could beat out the rain yesterday, but it was not to be. When we left the house the sun was still shining, although the sky was full of gathering thunderheads warning us amply of what lay ahead. The morning's Environment Canada forecast had given warning of severe thunderstorms in the offing.

And sure enough, down it came, sparsely at first but by that time we were well into our daily jaunt in the ravine, and sheltered quite adequately by the green canopy of the trees in the forest, bowering the trails.

There was the sound of a large woodpecker ahead, a loud hammering, telling us it was the Pileated woodpecker at work. But underlying that sound was another, much more difficult to interpret. In fact, we couldn't imagine what it might be; a truly peculiar sound and it was echoing, being repeated. A flock of birds, I thought, but not he. And it didn't take all that long for him to identify the sounds, emanating from an owl chick, with its parent responding in kind.

And there they were, in the thick of the leaves, each sitting on a branch opposite one another. Pity that, since they were too distant, over the creek, and high up in the branches, for a good, clear view. Even the zoom lens of my little camera was unable to do them justice. But it was a special treat to see them nonetheless. As we craned to look up at them, they seemed to be peering down at us.

The normal, readily-identifiable sound of the owl often comes floating over and through the dense tree tops toward us as we daily make our way through the woods. We do our best to locate the owls, but seldom are able to. This time we did.