This week I attended the “Raptors at Rose!” event. I have what might be called an amateur love of paleontology, particularly dinosaur paleontology. As a part of that passion, I’m particularly interested in attempting to reconstruct the anatomy of extinct creatures, so I saw an opportunity to get close to some living relatives of Dinosaurs. And, importantly, it had been a very long time since I had been up close to animals like these, and I have to say, the experience was phenomenal. Particularly, I was taken aback by the Great Horned Owl. It’s one thing to think about a bird abstractly – and perhaps it’s somewhat similar to see them daily. On the first, one can rationalize each aspect of the animal – all of the connected pieces go together in a way one expects. It has wings – so it flies. The shape and orientation of the contour feathers directs air over the wing in such a way to promote this flight. The beak/talons help it catch prey, etc. On the second, seeing bird every day also normalizes them. Of course they fly – we see them fly.

Yet it is altogether quite another experience to see something like the Great Horned Owl up close and in person. The handlers claimed the owl was quite light – which in contrast with its fairly behemoth size was hard to believe. It just seemed so big. And, even worse, it seemed stocky. But then there was that moment when the bird extended its wings – and it’s as if something clicked and astonished me even further. “This flies…” I thought to myself. Despite the cut wing, the span was impressive. And all of a sudden it made real the previously mundane realization: “Birds fly!” It’s difficult to explain how astonishing that actually feels, as I sit here thinking about it. Life evolved, through a slow and directionless biological process, the capacity to lift itself off the ground, and, taking advantage of the atmosphere, maintain its presence in the sky for remarkable periods of time. And we see the result of this every day. It’s quite a thing to appreciate. And, if I’m not mistaken, the science on the precise sequence of the evolution of flight in birds is still not totally solved. Please correct me if I’m wrong, but as I understand it, feathers in Dinosaurs predate true flying birds, and so feathers must have been secondarily adapted for flight. So, one may ask, what was the original purpose of feathers?

I think it’s fair to say I’m more or less blown away by the fact birds fly. And I wouldn’t have necessarily contextualized that without having seen these magnificent birds up close. I really appreciate the Cornell Raptor Program for sharing their work with us, and hope they continue to engage the Cornell community in appreciating these remarkable animals.