“We went on a worck to the medow and we called for an owl. the owl calld back.”
We went out into the dark to Warneford Meadow – daughter, son-in-law, two grandchildren, with my new Tawny Owl call, a little flute-type thing that you can make “to-whoooo.” We used the owl call, and in the distance (how far, I don’t know) we heard an owl call.
And on the way home, Maisy, making that unreproducible high-pitched squeak young children can do (and which I associate with our pre-language ape-troupe ancestors, with no evidence, really), got a call-back from a barn owl in the trees by the hospital.
Magic. Such magic I am putting it here without further comment.