Tiny, Elusive Saw-Whet Has Own Distinct Song Saw-whet owl, Wisconsin's smallest. Earlier this week some of you may have been reminded of "the ides of March." The word ides comes from an Old Latin verb meaning to divide, so it is perfectly fitting that March 15 sees the month nearly half gone. Rather than heeding the words the soothsayer spoke to Julius Caesar, "Beware the ides of March," all of us should "be aware of this joyous season!" The arrival of spring will be officially announced on March 20 at 1:35 A.M. CST. It is at this time that the sun rises exactly in the east and sets exactly in the west while day and night are of equal length – the vernal (spring) equinox. Our planet earth is turned toward its source of heat and light, the sun, and if there is one object in our lives that is taken for granted by most people it’s the sun. It would be so wonderful for every family to give a royal welcome, on the day of the equinox, to our great day star, the sun, as did Saint Francis of Assisi in the grateful words from his "Canticle to the Sun": O Lord, we praise thee for our brother sun, Who brings us day, who brings us golden light… There is another awesome star that will soon be ushering in the spring season, now slowly rising in the east later in the evening, Arcturus (arc-TOO-rus). This brightest star in the northern sky has been one of my favorites dating back to boyhood. What a brilliant gold-yellow "giant" it is, producing more star interest than most others. Perhaps more people have reported a UFO (unidentified flying object) low in the eastern sky in March than at any other time of the year, and that "danc ing moving object that appears to change color" always ends up being none other than Arcturus. The light coming from this dazzling star, when it is situated low in the eastern sky, passes through a considerable layer of hazy atmosphere containing dust, moisture and various pollutants. Coupled with the movement of the air, this "dancing star" can excite the best of imaginations. Locate the Big Dipper, now more or less standing upright on its arching handle. Follow the arc of the handle downward and it will take you directly to Arcturus that will be lying close to the horizon. This beautiful star, referred to by the Arabs years ago as "Keeper of Heaven," was also important in the eyes of the husbandmen. In Hesiod’s "Work and Days" one can read: When in the rosy morn Arcturus shines, Then pluck the clusters from the parent vines: And when Arcturus leaves the main to rise A bright star shining in the evening skies, Then prune the vine. While the sight of Arcturus is fascinating, telling one to prune your grapevines, there is also a little known bird song that is beginning to lace the humid night air, especially in the cedar swamps and neighboring evergreen woods. The unusual vocalization is coming from the smallest owl in Wisconsin, the saw-whet owl. In the case that you have a piano, or other musical instrument in your home, play middle C. Now imagine "singing" that note to the words, "whook-whook whook" about three times every two seconds. This is roughly what the saw-whet’s song sounds like, at least the song it tends to produce at this season. A few years ago a man called one night in March to ask if I could help identify the weird sound that he was hearing outside his house. I was having difficulty in helping until I finally had a brainstorm. I asked the person to open a window and hold the telephone receiver toward the bird. He did precisely that and, without a second of hesitation, I immediately had the answer – saw-whet owl! It was the first time someone had relayed a bird song to me over the phone for identification. Believe me, the song of this handsome little owl is very distinctive. Once heard, you will never forget it. It is hard to imagine an adult owl of this region weighing about three and seven-tenths ounces. Many of you can visualize the size of a flicker. In fact the saw-whet owl, about three inches shorter, will frequently nest in an old flicker cavity. Their home is usually the dark coniferous forest. It is often the clamor of some robins, blue jays or even chickadees that will lead you to one of these exquisite, almost melancholy-looking owls perched usually within four or five feet of the ground, extremely tame and content to sit and watch you intently. Consider yourself lucky if you have seen the saw-whet. Its elusiveness makes it difficult to find. Listen for their songs these warm later March and early April nights. You’ll return home refreshed and all the wiser, or so the owl would say! This column appeared in the Door County Advocate on 03/17/2000. © Copyright 2000 Roy Lukes. All rights reserved.