Best Circumpolar Owl with Chocolate-Brown Feathers
January 19, 2025



I just got back to the tundra after attending the North American Owl Awards at Tufts University in Medford, Massachusetts. I hate to brag, but guess what, folks? I cam away with a Golden Owl Pellet! That's right, I won for Best Circumpolar Owl with Chocolate-Brown Feathers! And to be honest, I deserve it. Here, let me turn around so you can see the chocolate-brown feathers on my back. Not bad, huh? What can I say, folks. One does one's best. But it sure is nice to be recognized for one's outstanding attributes!

Don't tell me you missed the awards ceremony! Well, know worries: You can catch it here: Listen to the North American Owl Awards ceremony, live from Zimman Field at Tufts University in Medford, Massachusetts!

Welcome!
December 4, 2024



Is this thing on? (Testing, testing.) I’ve been asked to speak a word or two by way of introduction. (Well, here goes nothing...) Ahem.

I am the Boreal Owl, Aegolius funereus, a denizen of the Boreal forest, appropriately enough, which is also known as the taiga forest or the snow forest¹. It’s the largest terrestrial biome on the planet, a swath of closely spaced conifers encircling the globe between the tundra to the north and the temperate forest to the south². You can have your tropical rainforests and your deserts and your tundras and your grasslands, I’m doing just fine up here in the circumpolar region, thank you very much.

Well, I say I am doing fine, but that really just applies to only three years out of every four. You see, the rodent population has this bad habit of crashing every fourth winter or so, and as rodents are our chief source of nourishment, this obliges us to head south for food, something that your ornithologists refer to as an irruption, I believe³. These irruptions are great for you guys, of course. Bird lovers can photograph my otherwise elusive species. But it’s not exactly a holiday for us owls. To put it bluntly, we are generally starving during these pilgrimages and there is little comfort in the knowledge that we have helped you tick a box on your ornithological bucket list⁴.

Speaking of which, the winter of 2004-5 was a particularly bad time in this regard. We Boreal Owls had to travel as far south as New York City for sustenance⁵. That’s well over 300 miles from the southernmost portion of our customary habitat in Canada, roundabouts Montreal. It was apparently our first trip to the Big Apple. One of my ancestors perched on a Norway Spruce right outside the Tavern on the Green restaurant. It was a regular media circus – or at least a media sideshow. Yes, I said ancestor. God may have given you guys 70 years, but we Boreals are lucky to get eight⁶. In fact, some seemingly authoritative websites say that we can expect less than four⁷. That’s low even by owl standards, seeing as the Great Horned Owl often gets 13 or more⁸.

But I should not complain, lest I thereby appear to justify my grim-sounding species name of “funereus” vouchsafed us by Mr. Classification himself, biologist Carl Linnaeus⁹. One wonders how Carl hit upon that appellation. I suppose my mating call is not the cheeriest sound in the world, a series of plaintive toots, as it were. But still “funereus”? But then his attitude is not unprecedented. When the Cree Indians hear my mating call, they think I am summoning the spirit world.

I must say, I am at rather a disadvantage when it comes to blogging, given the fact that I am such a hermit. I am typically tucked away in the subalpine forest listening for red voles, so truly engaging stories about Boreal Owls, like that one about our trip to New York City 20 years ago, are few and far between. But I’ve signed up to write this blog, so I will be racking my brains to make this thing as interesting as possible. Just remember that 75% of an owl’s brain is devoted to sight and hearing, so there is not a lot left over for me to write riveting prose¹⁰.

But I guess almost any halfway literate owl can concoct a “fun facts” list about their own species. Did you know, for instance, that we Boreal Owls have asymmetrical ear holes? I kid you not. That’s how we can locate red voles as they skitter away under a pack of snow. And how about the fact that the Inuit people call us “the Blind One”¹¹? They don’t seem to realize that we owls have excellent low-light vision. But I guess we behave so calmly in their vicinity that we appear to be visually challenged.

I was going to give you a fun story about what my genus name of Aegolius means, but the explanation of the etymology may be beyond my skills as a linguist. The Latin word apparently refers to "birds of prey" and is derived from a Greek word meaning "bird of ill omen," as per the trustworthy Owl Pages website¹². And that's no doubt the definition that Carl Linnaeus had in mind when he classified us back in 1758 in the tenth edition of his Systema Naturae. But according to various Wiki sites, the name is also to be found in Greek mythology, leading one to wonder if Carl was also influenced by such connections. The Word Wiki, for instance, claims that Aegolius refers to a nymph who was better known as Aegina¹³, while Wikipedia proper gives us to understand that Aegolius was "a man whom Zeus transformed into an owl."¹⁴ Oh, well. I guess we can't be sure what Carl Linnaeus had in his head when he was naming us, in any case.

My editor is telling me to wrap things up. Doh. Just when I was getting on a roll.

Let me just add that I am not the only owl of the genus Aegolius. I share that distinction with the Northern Saw-whet owl (Aegolius acadicus), whose territory, somewhat confusingly, overlaps with mine (especially in southern Canada and the Rockies)¹⁵. I say “somewhat confusingly” because we Boreal Owls resemble the Saw Whet owl in many particulars. So let me leave you with a list of differences whereby you can tell us apart.

SOUNDS: The typical call of the Northern Saw Whet Owl puts me in mind of that monotonous beeping that one hears when a vehicle is backing up¹⁶. It’s not much to write home about. My vociferations, on the other hand, are faster, less dogmatically rhythmical, and of a wistful and tremulous nature, if I do say so myself¹⁷.

BEAKS: The beak of the Northern Saw Whet Owl is just black, whilst we Boreal Owls sport a range of hues, from a sort of pale bone color to yellow¹⁸.

BODY: Both of us are brown with white spots and streaked bellies, but the Saw Whet’s facial disk is white, whilst mine is grey. We're also lengthier than the Saw Whet by 2 to 3 inches¹⁹.

HEADS: Both Saw Whets and Boreal Owls are said to have “oversized” heads. (Hey, don’t judge, people.)


1: Ask A Biologist, Arizona State University
2: About Boreal Forests, International Boreal Forest Research Association
3: Irruptions: A Very Special Kind of Migration, Loudon Wildlife Conservancy
4: Heavy snow may be forcing boreal owls to starve, CBC
5: Boreal Owl in Central Park NYC, 2004/5, phil jeffrey:: home
6: How Long Do Owls Live: An In-Depth Look at Their Lifespan, Learn Bird Watching
7: Beneath the Pines: The Enigmatic Lives of 16 Owls in Colorado, Rarest Birds
8: Great Horned Owl: Profile, Traits, Facts, Range, Diet, Size, Bird Baron
9: Boreal Owl, Wikipedia
10: How Smart Are Owls?, World Birds: Joy of Nature
11: Owls in Mythology & Culture, The Owl Pages
12: Owlish words, meanings & origins, The Owl Pages
13: Aegolius , Words Wiki
14: Aegolius (mythology), Wikipedia
15: The Life and Lore of the Northern Saw-whet Owl, Rarest Birds
16: Northern Saw-Whet Owl Call, YouTube
17: Boreal owl call and sound - Aegolius funereus, YouTube
18: Boreal Owl, Birdfact
19: Make the ID: Boreal vs Saw Whet Owls, WildTones