On the south side of Chicago, I walked across snow-covered sand on an icy lakeshore. The ice that had formed where water met beach lowly creaked as water moved underneath it. The winter day was cold, but, thankfully, there was a lack of wind whose harshness would have only been magnified by traveling across Lake Michigan.
I was at the 31st Street Harbor at Margaret T. Burroughs Beach, also called 31st Street Beach, on a mission to find a snowy owl. Prior to this venture, I had heard about quite a few snowy owl sightings along the Chicago lakefront, including the area that I was specifically visiting. Because a snowy owl had been seen at this harbor recently and because this owl species is known to be active during the day, my afternoon visit held promise.
I climbed terraced steps along the edge of the harbor up to the point where a row of ice-covered and snow-dusted boulders began to wrap around the docks. The snowy owl could have been anywhere. The owls’ white plumage is the perfect camouflage for settings adorned with snow. Females and immature snowy owls have the addition of dark barring, further increasing their camouflage and the effort it takes to spot one. I scanned the docks and breakwater in search of a shape resembling a clump of snow that also happened to have yellow eyes, a beak, talons, and wings.
One fun and helpful part of birding in major cities is that other birders tend to be more obvious in certain areas. The cameras, binoculars, and scopes must give us away as well as our behavior of staring off into the distance that seems really uninteresting to regular passersby. As I had anticipated, a few other birders were at the harbor and searching for the same bird. A birder pointed to an area a few docks away.
Near the end of one dock was a white, round shape that differed from the pattern of white, manmade objects arranged at each boat slip. My bare eyes had difficulty making out any distinguishing features, so I zoomed in on my camera to get a closer look. There was the snowy owl. She sat very still on the edge of the dock with her eyes mostly closed, resting. She was so far away and so camouflaged in her barred plumage. She was regal. Occasionally she widened her eyes, still maintaining a squint while also exposing more of her eyes’ yellow coloring as she looked around.
Snowy owls are winter residents in Chicago and many more North American regions. After spending the summer nesting season in the Arctic and as winter approaches, the owls spread throughout the rest of Canada and travel even farther southward, typically stopping somewhere within the northern portion of the United States. They like open land, making farm fields, industrial expanses, and the lakeshore along the city of Chicago likely places to find them.
The snowy owl sat on her dock in complete indifference to her small yet devoted audience that stood a respectful distance away. Birders came and went, happy to have seen the bird they came out to see and also some other species that made it to daily bird sighting lists. Mergansers and goldeneyes were swimming in the freezing lake outside of the harbor and far away from the snowy owl.
A few hours later, after having warmed up in the city, I returned to the harbor to see if the snowy owl was still in the area. I could not find her anywhere. She was in a different spot, either at the same harbor or somewhere else entirely. I imagined the snowy owl lifting off into flight from her perch and wondered if anyone saw her movements. It is very possible that this transition took place unnoticed by people. While nature can be something of a spectacle in cities, sometimes it has a knack for seamlessly blending into its surroundings. Seen or unseen, the snowy owl was out there somewhere. Her majestic presence has graced Chicago this winter where she will most likely reside until spring when the weather warms and she returns to the Arctic tundra.