Mating Season

By Tim Parks

For about a week this past winter, I started hearing a constant noise only at night. I described it as a rusty hamster wheel on a constant loop, always starting at 7 and going on throughout the night until the break of dawn. 

I asked my neighbor what it could be. She suggested it may be a noise deterrent for coyotes, which didn’t sound right, in a literal sense, as I always heard them howling at dusk and this was before the time change meaning the mystery noise started when it was dark.  

Besides it didn’t seem like a neighbor would purposely have it on during that timeframe; as it punctured the usually tranquil night, one of the reasons I moved to the mountains. Or would one of them do that? The very thought began to gnaw at me, irritating me with each bite. Talk about harshing my mellow!  

The strange thing was it didn’t seem to come from the same place nightly. The even stranger thing was I did something I don’t like to do...I went on a local Facebook page to ask, “What’s this noise?” after I recorded it as a video on my phone. I even prefaced that fact about turning to social media about inquiring as to what could be behind this nocturnal sound.  

Almost immediately, a few people said it was a Northern Saw-whet owl, and this was its mating call that goes on until May. I immediately felt relieved in knowing it wasn’t caused by a human. And then silly for thinking it was, as I live in the middle of the woods. Wait, there’s nature in nature? Do tell!  

And then a tinge of sadness that he had to go through all of this to find a mate. He didn’t have an app called Hooter to go on, merely relying on the hope that a female would heed his call.

In a weird way, he reminded me of myself when I was single and didn’t have the luxury of the modern-day convenience of what is essentially ordering up a man, as if he were a pizza.  

Back in the day, going out to the bar, and or my preferred hunting ground, the dance club on the weekends, was similar to what this owl was doing. He was putting himself out there, just as I had in the smoke-filled clubs, making sure my plumage looked just right. My mating call being the energy I put out that I would put out.  

I didn't want love at that point, having been through a horrible relationship. I just wanted to have some fun; no strings attached except the rare occasion when someone would pull on my heartstrings. My mating season was a year-long affair, while his only has a specific shelf life.    

And he was out there every night, signaling that he’s single and ready to mingle, without fail, resolute in his pursuit. I admired his dedication to his carnal endeavors, night after night, the hours adding up. Each evening that bled into the next, I would hope that he had found his mate, as I had discovered mine eventually.  

Yet, his constant call continued to pierce the velvet night skies. 

However, in the past week I haven’t heard him, the hamster wheel has stopped, the ride over for the season. I hope he found someone. I hope he has love. Or at the very least that he got laid.