Our Splendid Night Visitors
On most winter evenings, Kathy and I hike to the hilltop near our home in the oak woodlands of Northern California. We usually leave about 4:00, and if we don’t stop to talk to anyone or get sidetracked, return to the house before the sun goes down. One quiet evening late last December, we heard the whistling of wingbeats overhead as we walked up the driveway at the end of our one-mile trek.