I cannot be sure who was more surprised by our encounter with this stunning southwestern Great Horned Owl. Our quest for a Barn Owl had taken us away from the remnants of civilization, down a long, dusty primitive road, to a remote patch of the southern Arizona high desert. It was a place where the expression off the beaten track no longer held any meaning. It was also home to a long-abandoned steel barn. Well past its days of usefulness, it survives now as corrugated metal evidence to a once hope-filled homestead. It was just the type of place that we hoped a Barn Owl could call home.

The front of the building was open, inviting one to peer into its recesses to assess its bowels. The ceiling, once sturdy, was now so filled with holes that the interior was well lit by the afternoon sun. The once sturdy infrastructure and machinery that once processed the bounty of the farm now sat idle; rusted and decaying as the planet toiled to reclaim it for tis own. The duct-work that once hung neatly from crossbeams, now dangled like giant gray vines from what was left of the roof while the once firm poured concrete floor housed deep fissures and cracks presenting something of a danger to further exploration. Not enough to keep us out, but enough to keep us vigilant about where we placed our next footstep or where we might lean.

As we entered we scanned the rafters for signs of life. We were rewarded with a great horned owl perched high on a beam in the far back corner. As he gazed at us with watchful eyes, it was apparent that he had seen us long before we had found him. Moving cautiously, we delved deeper inside to get a better look. We soon realized that we would have to cross to the other side of the barn, over a machine filled moat dug in the center of the floor, to get a decent view. My friend made the traverse successfully. I almost made it, losing my footing and balance towards the end. Reaching out I grabbed a steel truss to steady myself. I didn't fall, but the noise was too much of an intrusion to the owl, and he flew off a place of greater solitude. And that should have been the end of the story. But as we turned to leave, I glanced up, and there, almost directly overhead, roosted a second owl, unplussed by our presence. It was one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. Gathering our wits, and with huge smiles on our faces, we raised our cameras and shot as the bird posed for us. This image is one where the owl observed us for a minute before going back to ignoring us to scan the rest of the barn.

Those who follow my adventures know that this is not where this story ends. We did find the Barn Owl, peacefully standing guard inside a metal sentry post on the outside the barn. How does one describe the never-ending adventure and rewards of life in this high desert? I am humbled by the task and so very blessed by God to have the opportunity to be its scribe.
Shoot Date: November 27, 2018
Canon EOS 5D Mark IV
Shutter priority ¹⁄₁₆₀ sec at f/6.3 ‒ ²⁄₃ EV
Lens: TAMRON SP 150-600mm F/5-6.3 Di VC USD A011 @ 600 mm
ISO: 3200