Captured with Nikon D3, Nikkor 200-400 VR with 1.7 teleconverter

Hooter, our owl friend, showed up again yesterday. Shari spotted him from the window in the kitchen while he was napping in the tree.  He seems to be a smaller character, he may be a male. Males are smaller in size by as much as 20% than females. During the day it is hard to get them to open their eyes but they are large, staring and yellow-orange in color, bordered by an orange-buff facial disc. The name "Great Horned" is derived from tufts of feathers around the ears that appear to be "horns" but have nothing to do with hearing at all. They grow to a length of 18-25" with a wingspan of 36-60", appearing larger in size they weigh only about 2 to 4lbs. Most of their activity begins at dusk, this fellow seemed to be trying to catch some zzzz's and I think we were bothering him with our antics (hooting and chirping) of trying to get him to open his eyes. The Great Horned Owl has a large repertoire of sounds, ranging from deep booming hoots to shrill shrieks. The male's resonant territorial call "hoo-hoo hoooooo hoo-hoo" can be heard over several miles during a still night, not to mention what it sounds like right out your back door. As a Great Horned Owl can take prey 2 to 3 times heavier than itself we have been keeping track of the dogs. Nesting season is in January or February when the males and females hoot to each other. When close they bow to each other, with drooped wings. Mutual bill rubbing and preening also occurs during nesting. We love old Hooter and hope he hangs around a while.

I love photography on the Oregon Coast, it is unique in that the entire coast is public land, Oregon law prohibits private ownership of coastline property. Cape Foulweather was discovered and named in 1778 by the non other than the famous British navigator Captain James Cook. It was at this Point that Captain Cook first sighted the mainland of North America on the Pacific Coast, and one of the sudden storms which greeted his arrival almost put an end to his historical expedition. The fierceness of the storm is reflected by the name he gave this rugged landmark - Cape Foulweather.

The Lookout is perched atop this promontory rising 500 feet above sea level and from its windows can be seen the crashing surf along the shore, sea birds nesting on the rocks, sea lions basking in the sun, fleets of fishing boats in search of salmon, ocean liners whose wisps of smoke string out along the far horizon. Whale watching, unbelievable sunsets, and the peaceful calm which follows the violence of a sudden storm. I photographed this memorable spot with a local photographer, one of his secret spots I guess.

We have been serenaded by this fellow for the last few nights outside our bedroom window, we finally caught a glimpse of him about a half hour after sunset tonight. The exposure was a challenge, with very little ambient light to work with  and a long shutterspeed. After several sessions of hooting in his direction we got him to look our way. Our neighbors probably thought I was crazy "hooting" in the back yard, it comes natural for me, they do call me "Hooter" you know.