There is a narrow road on Antelope Island that leads west to the Great Salt Lake. Every time I am on this road I slow down and with a sinking heart look around hoping to see the Burrowing owls.
Well, I have never seen owls there, instead I always met Meadowlarks.
This bird spent half an hour on the colorful bush, sometimes disappearing in its wilds for a short while and then peaking out again to check if I was still there.
Sometimes the Meadowlark stretched his neck and he looked a little bit taller and very wary, peering at something that only he could see.
Generally, life is good!
