The call is coming from inside the house.
Last Friday we were awakened at six in the morning by Sebby's outraged barking. You could tell from the barking that something was actually up. Upon investigation, we were immediately enchanted by the young owl who had clearly landed on our porch during an early morning flight, an owl without the flying skills to rescue herself. We put the deeply offended Sebby in an upstairs bedroom and spent the next several hours watching the little owl scritch and scratch and fluff up her wings if we got too close to her with our cameras and our excited quiet thrill--it was a thrill, it was an honor, it felt like magic to be in the company, however briefly, of this creature of the night and the woods and clearly not of our porch. He walked or hopped down the stairs, and eventually made his way up the sloping hill into the backyard and then into the woods. It gets a little confusing here. Avery knew where the owl's nest was, and when we looked, there was another little owl sitting in tha