By Bill Napper
The Owl Prowl on Friday, Sept. 13, began at the Garden Pavilion nearly an hour before sunset. We start early to give time for the caravan to reach our forest location and settle in before dark. Although owls are nocturnal, they often become active during the golden hour in the forest, and with some light remaining, there’s a chance we might see them flying, silhouetted against the sky.
After a brief introduction to the program and co-leaders, Gary Haner and Ginny Delaney, we set off on our nocturnal adventure, heading to the Rock Run Loop trail parking area. Once there, we eagerly broadcast the calls of the Eastern Screech Owl. Within minutes, the forest responded with distant whinnies—the characteristic call of these small, charismatic raptors. Though distant, several owls called back. As we listened, sharp-eyed participants spotted bats fluttering overhead, their silhouettes standing out against the fading light.
Hoping for a closer encounter, we moved to the Cull Hollow parking area. Again, our calls were answered by screech owls, though still somewhat distant. A brief moment of excitement came when a Barred Owl’s distinct “who-cooks-for-you” call echoed through the trees. This gave us the perfect opportunity to discuss Bernheim’s rich owl diversity. Ginny shared that Bernheim is home to four year-round owl species, the Great Horned Owl, Barred Owl, Eastern Screech Owl, and Barn Owl, and two winter visitors, the Northern Saw-Whet Owl and Short-Eared Owl.
At the Fire Tower parking area, night had fully settled in. Though our owl calls went unanswered, the persistent trilling of tree crickets filled the air. This spot always sparks a connection with nature, prompting engaging discussions among the group. Gary, a regular volunteer at the Fire Tower, mentioned his upcoming shift the following day and invited everyone to explore it.
Our final stop at the Canopy Tree Walk proved to be the highlight of the night. Based on past experiences, I knew Barred Owls’ responses here could be delayed, so I immediately began broadcasting their calls as soon as I exited the vehicle. As we walked along the path, we heard distant screech owl calls.
Interestingly, playing Barred Owl calls often stirs up Eastern Screech Owls, despite them being potential prey for Barred Owls. It’s one of the many surprising complexities of forest ecology. Similarly, playing a Barred Owl call during daylight sometimes triggers wild turkeys to gobble. These unexpected responses reveal the intricate and often mysterious interactions within the forest community.
We continued listening to distant screech owls. Hoping to liven things up, I broadcast Barred Owl calls again. After about 10 minutes, we suddenly heard a Barred Owl calling from a nearby tree. Its distinct “Hwah, Hwah, Hwah, Hwah, Hwah, HoowaHHHhhh…” echoed through the forest, filling us with unexpected delight. Soon, we realized at least two Barred Owls were nearby, possibly more. It was difficult to tell if they were moving or if we were surrounded by them. The experience was magical as their calls pierced the darkness, filling the area.
As the program came to a close, we reluctantly began our journey back down Old Forest Road. The owls, indifferent to our departure, continued their enchanting conversation, their calls gradually fading as we walked away.
Before heading back, we made one last stop at the Cedar Pond bridge. There, we spotted glow worms—the larvae of fireflies—crawling along the ground, their bioluminescence creating tiny points of light in the darkness. Above us, the waxing gibbous moon cast a pale glow, while stars reflected off the still surface of the pond, mirroring the night sky.
Night programs always reveal the hidden wonders of Bernheim Forest. From the calls of owls to the silent flight of bats and the gentle glow of insects, each experience highlights the complex web of life thriving under the cover of darkness. The forest truly comes alive after dark, offering a world many rarely experience. It’s a privilege to share these moments and help foster a deeper connection between people and the natural nocturnal world around us, even when we can’t always see it.