It swooped down onto the pavement of the cul-de-sac in front of my house and caught nothing but the glare of the streetlight and my headlights at once. Twin gold rings flashed as it looked my way. It had horns — do great horned owls live here? I guess they could?
I rolled my window down. What exactly was I going to say to it? The last time I saw an owl was also at the end of a night out: parking my car at the end of Pilot’s Row, I saw a barn owl perched atop the abandoned building there, and had enough time to blurt “Owl!” before it turned its white moon face my way and took off.
What to say to this one. I was still contemplating it when the owl flew away. “Okay then,” I said as I rolled my window back up and parked the car.