Last weekend, we were lured to South Boston by the promise of close proximity to birds of prey. I am, after all, the sort of girl who braves traffic and distance for things like sea urchins and feathered predators. But we were predictably slow in actually getting out to the Boston Nature Center, in part because the previous week's schedule of work, school, and sick had left us a little lacking in oomph. By the time that we actually got there, it looked as if the visiting birds had been put back into their travel compartments for the return journey to the sanctuary where they actually reside.
Not easily deterred, the big kid and I hung around the bird table for a few minutes, asking general and seemingly casual questions of the guy working there. Eventually, I innocently inquired as to what might possibly be inside the boxes behind the table, and we were, in short order, rewarded for our curiousity with very, very close-up views of a couple of good looking owls. The screech owl, for her part, seemed to have a bit of an attitude problem. But what are you going to do?
After our owl viewing, we tromped around the woods a bit, and then headed home via a Chinese grocery store near downtown where we picked up fresh rice noodles and a hunk of taro root the size of my head.
Not a bad Saturday at all by my flexible and somewhat unusual standards.
