Day Ninety-Four “Songs in the Night”
The nocturnal serenade persisted for months, interrupting the solitude of those quiet, country nightscapes. We looked forward to that sweet lullaby every evening, cracking open the bedroom windows, anticipating the arrival of Hoots, the affectionate (yet not terribly original) name I had given to the owl who had taken up temporary residence in our aging, maple tree. Owls are …