Since the owlets were mostly pink with not many feathers, we knew they still had up to 60 more days of maturing before we'd see them start to fledge. That is if they even survived the rest of the summer heat.
I had the idea to set up an airbed outside so that we could spend our evenings in comfort on the patio as we waited and wished for a moonlit owl flight. Each night, we'd sit quiet and still, waiting for the chirps of the babies to call out for their nightly feast. As dusk would fall, we'd see the parents swoop in, circling over the box to let them know food was on the way. The babies would squeal with utter delight at the sounds of their parents nearby. The adults would fly off in search of rats, mice, and rabbits to bring home to their growing kids. Then, just about when it was too dark to see the box, we'd hear SLAP! as dad dropped off the fresh kill, and the babies screamed at the top of their lungs in celebration.