Back in the ‘50s, a great horned owl was using an old hawk’s nest adjacent to the “City 40,” a plot of land the city of Bend used for sewage affluent, and I took a librarian out to see the nest, hoping to impress her with my acumen and coolness. She, however, impressed me with her keen interest and wanted to climb up and see the baby owls. “You bet!” I said, and up she went. Just about the time that lovely young women peeked over the lip of the nest—right out of nowhere—a magnificent, very large golden eagle swooped over her head.
The adult owl leaped into the air with the eagle in hot pursuit, and crashed into a willow thicket along the irrigation ditch. Needless to say, this was an unexpected event for all participants. When the shaking librarian arrived back on the ground she said, “Don’t call me, I’ll call you,” and I never saw her again...










