Last night, arriving at the top of Strawberry Hill in Stow Lake at dusk, just in time to catch the last pink and orange of the sunset,  I heard a characteristic, throaty “who-whoooooo.”  Several people were standing around, under a tall stand of cypresses, looking upward.  And there, sitting on a naked branch, was a Great Horned Owl, unconcerned about his audience below.  Quite a sighting!  Soon he lifted gracefully off the branch and swooped off to another tree, out of our view.  We sighed with satisfaction and dispersed.