That Nightly Hoots and Wonders

Each spring, the birds return to nest at Oak Hammock Marsh, twenty kilometres north of Winnipeg. The first Canada goose usually shows up in March (there’s a contest for spotting it) and then thousands follow. They take over the wetlands, pair up, manage their offspring. In the fall, they’re loud and communal, making migration plans. But in the spring, they’re less social, keeping to themselves before heading even farther north, in some cases all the way up to Churchill.

It was dead quiet the night my wife and I were at Oak Hammock Marsh. As we drove back to the highway, windows open, a huge white bird suddenly flew through the beam of our headlights without making a sound. Not a goose. We figured an owl, like in Harry Potter (we’re not birders, clearly). What struck me most beyond its size was the silence, even as it flapped away.

This is evolution. The flight feathers of an owl are fringed and comb-like so that they displace the air before it...