TBT – Response To All Of Your Emails Asking About Arctic Snowy Owls

Editor’s note: After yesterday’s post referencing Snowy Owls we received a ton of emails asking what we were talking about, so here is a throwback Thursday post from January of last year…

snowy owl

WickedLocal.com – The snowy owl is not your typical beach bum, though he likes to lounge on the open sand. He’s gazing toward the water, yes, but with more than poetry on his brain. And the Arctic temperatures don’t seem to faze him. What is he doing there, sitting on Race Point Beach? What is he doing on Cape Cod, for that matter?

These white-winged visitors from the North have been seen so often this winter that bird experts are being forced to do tricks with math to keep up with it all.

The owls are likely hunting ducks, gulls and other waterfowl, he says. And they’re sitting on the beach because they prefer treeless, wind-swept terrain — the kind they’re used to in the Arctic Circle, where they breed… “These are big, serious predators. They can take down a great blue heron if they want,”

What are all these owls doing here? Why Cape Cod? I’ll tell you why. They probably read our story about how we are roping off our beaches to artificially prop up the Piping Plover population. They probably figure it’s a double whammy situation. First they can tear through the Plovers like a fat drunk dude devouring a bag of peeps at 2 a.m. on Easter morning. The Piping Plovers won’t even know what hit them because they’re so used to living in a bubble with no natural predators in the roped off V.I.P. sections we’ve been providing them.

Then the Snowy owls probably figure that if we rolled out a red carpet for the Plovers we’ll probably build beach front condos with taxpayer money for them to live in. Next thing you know the Audubon Society will turn Cape Cod into the Malibu beach for owls. Meanwhile we are laying on towels on the pavement in the parking lot fighting over french fries with the Seagulls.

This is why you don’t mess with Mother Nature folks, next thing you know your grandfather gets pecked to death for a french fry. Don’t let your grandfather get pecked to death for a french fry.

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