'All' I wanted was to see a snowy owl that was NOT on a rooftop, not surrounded by the paparazzi and its police escort. I wanted a personal owl.

We'd witnessed the "celebrity" snowy owl that was in residence in Rye Harbor for well over a month, it seemed to move only from rooftop to rooftop.

Yesterday morning my wish was granted. Russ saw it first, a white rock being mobbed by crows.   I barely had time to get out there with my camera before an ambivalent beachcomber walked too close.   The first images I made were of it flying.  Eventually, urged by the rising tide at its feet, it took to the air and thankfully flew back to 'our' shore.  What more could I ask for?   While I have the details of feather and wing in my photographs, I have the elegant and efficient flight of this magnificent visitor engraved in my memory.

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