Giving a Hoot (photo by Tim Brox)

I've made five new friends this week. At least, I'd like to think that I have.

True, I will never have them over for dinner, never engage them in a long conversation and there's no way I'd even let them in my house. But we are connected, nonetheless.

Like most new friends, these five screech owls--three juveniles and their parents (we live in a very traditional neighborhood)--have utterly delighted me. And now, each night around 9:15, I wander into our backyard and wait for them.

Usually, I know they are close by because the robins (and, yes, even the cardinals, who I am much slower to criticize) can't keep their anxious yaps shut. I should be grateful for their concerned warnings, I suppose, because I know that I'm about to have a wonderful experience.

Tonight's show was pretty unbeatable. Even before I saw the owls, I was treated to an outdoor classical concert in a neighbor's backyard, the staccato of strings set against the ruckus of a pickup basketball game two doors down. And then, because they too were hankering for some attention, a few cicadas joined the choir, signaling, I suppose, the halfway point of summer.

Ah, but this family of screech owls. . . did I mention that Mark and I were in an intense 5-minute stare down with one of the young ones, who was perched in the cedar tree not more than 10 feet from us?

Ten minutes later, when even Hobbes the Hobo dog had abandoned me, my vigilance was rewarded, five fold. I signaled to Eric who, bless his heart, actually remembered to load the dishwasher without being reminded, and he joined me for a top-three bird experience. We quietly moved into our neighbor's yard for a clearer view of the owls, all of whom had swept down off their perches. There, not ten feet from us, four screech owls were perched on our neighbor's bird bath, staring at us.

It was incredible.

That's pretty much how I always describe my experiences with nature, though. Incredible. For me, it is outdoors, in nature, where I feel most alive, most connected. For me, while church often can be swell, even with the occasional and unfortunate foray into Southern Baptist hymns, nature always soars.

If I were God (I know, I know. . . ), I'd limit people's time in buildings and require more outdoor recess.