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A few birds from the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta.


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Phantom of the Tundra
Snowy Owl
Anipaq

Once while cross-country skiing in the high tundra near Hooper Bay, I heard hooting in the distance. It was early May and the tidal fog from the Bering Sea was just beginning to thin out. I continued skiing across the now patchy snow and into the receding fog.

Somewhere in front of me there was the sudden luffing sound of great wings. At first, I couldn’t see what it was, and I stopped and peered into the grayness. Then I saw it, moving with long smooth downward strokes of its wings, gliding for a few seconds across the exposed tundra tussocks, then stroking again. It looked more like a phantom than an owl. But an owl it was, and one of the largest snowy owls I had ever seen.

I watched the bird fly until it disappeared in the mist, then I skied in the direction of a tall tussock called a nunapik, where I suspected the owl had been standing. I knew that at this time of year the males were setting up their territories and often stood on these oversize tussocks and loudly hooted their mating song across the tundra, trying to attract potential spouses.

Sure enough, when I reached the nunapik there was owl junk everywhere – some scat, but mostly pellets composed of hair and bones. One of the pellets, or “owl burps,” as I call them, was huge and, when later dissected by my wife’s students at the school, was found to have the remains of ten voles and lemmings in it. We counted at least ten complete miniature skulls in the tangle of hair and bone, and constantly “oohed” and “awed” as we examined its contents. It turned the morning into a special memory for all of us.

While in Hooper Bay, I learned that they called the Snowy owl by the names, anipa, or anipaq. The names apparently derive from the Norton Sound Yup’ik word for ground snow and probably mean “big snow bird.” They may also relate to the Yup’ik verb “anirtur,” which means to “rescue” or “save one’s life or soul,” since the meat is said to be so tasty. I remember an admonition on the part of Hooper Bay elders not to kill Snowy owls unless you’re very hungry, for they could save your life if you’re desperately in need of food.

There is an interesting saying in Yupik, “ak’a tamaani anguyiit anipaunguatullruut,” which translates as, “long ago warriors used to pretend to be owls.” Because of their unique qualities of strength, silence and stealth, their yua or spirit was regarded as very powerful. They were respected equally by the Iñupiat, who called them, ookpik, and used them in stories as a way to keep their young children from wandering too far away from home.

Anipaq has a scientific name, Nyctea scandiaca, which in English means, “nocturnal Scandinavian.” This doesn’t have anything to do with what Scandinavians do at night. It simply refers to the way the owl hunts during the night (although it also hunts by day), and the fact that the first specimen described by scientists was from Lapland, in northern Scandinavia.

While “watching like a hawk” from its favorite tundra nunapik, the owl swivels its head from side to side, appearing to move it in almost a complete circle (ouch!). Along with its night vision and excellent visual acuity, no vole or lemming within miles dares to surface above the snow for fear of becoming one of those hairy pellets. When rodents are scarce in the Arctic, Snowy owls head south in large numbers and entertain bird watchers who otherwise wouldn’t get the chance to view them. Some hungry Snowies have been reported to attack and kill young peregrine falcons on their nest, but often have been killed themselves by the adult peregrines.

Speaking of nests, both adult Snowy owls build theirs on a high spot in dry tundra. They simply scoop out a hollow on the ground and line it with moss and feathers. In extremely good lemming years, up to 13 eggs may be laid over the space of several days. The female alone incubates the eggs and, after a month or so, the young hatch at different times. Within 16 days they begin leaving the nest, according to the order in which they hatched. When they leave they scatter over the nearby tundra where the adult male feeds them. When all have left the nest both parents feed and protect the brood.

Since Snowy owl young are so big, it takes them a long time to make their first flight – from hatching, 43 days for the quick learners, and up to 55 days for those who are, let us say, slow learners. During this time the adults will use the “crippled bird act” to lead intruders away, and especially the male actively defends his mate and young against enemies as big as foxes and wolves. When humans approach the nest or young, the adult owls will swoop low and strike with very sharp talons.

Men, beware!
Snowy Owl

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