Owls have always captivated us humans. Maybe, because their eyes are on the front of their faces like ours, we feel like we can look into their eyes and somehow communicate with them. Maybe it’s because of their seemingly mysterious nature—most are active at night when we can’t see them, stealthily capturing and killing live prey. Maybe it’s something else, something we’re can’t quite name or describe.

Here in Maine we have a number of owl species that are relatively common. The barred owl is one of the species without feather tufts (more commonly called “ears” or “horns,” even though they are neither) on the head, with dark eyes; they are the species most often seen, and theirs is the voice most often heard. They are famous as the eight-hooter whose song sounds like “who-cooks-for-you, who-cooks-for-you-all” and they are common, permanent residents in woodlands throughout the state. In midwinter it is not uncommon to see a barred owl during daylight hours—most likely a very hungry, food-stressed bird—sitting in a tree along the edge of a forest opening or even near backyard bird feeders. These birds are trying to find a small rodent for the meal that will allow them to survive. A few days ago we saw a barred owl at dusk along a country road in Richmond that was clearly actively searching for prey. Birders from around the state have been reporting more and more similar sightings in recent weeks.

The other more common resident owl here in Maine is the great horned owl. That species, like its name suggests, has two prominent feather tufts on its head that look like horns or ears; it has yellow rather than dark eyes. Great horned owls are generalists and can make their living in a great variety of habitats, even in cities. They are much less likely to come out in daylight hours, even at dusk, compared to barred owls, so they are sighted less regularly. A few times a year we usually see one silhouetted in a tree as we are driving on Interstate 295 near the Richmond exit. Great horned owls sing with usually an odd-numbered cadence that sounds much lower than the barred owl. They typically begin nesting much earlier than other owls, and it is not unusual to hear them singing even in January and February.

There are other owls that occur in Maine—at least 10 other species have been recorded—and at least three of the nine are known to breed in the state. One of them, the tiny northern saw-whet owl, is seemingly fairly common and widespread but it is very rarely seen. Its song sounds like the beeper on a backing-up truck and probably has been dismissed as such more than once.

One of the rarest owls to be found in Maine and even in the whole of the U.S. in normal years is the great gray owl. In Canada it is sometimes called the “gray ghost” as it often seems to appear and disappear with ease. The breeding range in North America (it also occurs across northern Europe and Russia) is almost completely confined to the Boreal Forest region extending from interior Alaska across through Ontario to the westernmost edge of Quebec. Small populations also extend down into the western U.S. at higher elevations as far south as California and Wyoming.

The great gray owl looks imposing, with a big gray body, big rounded head (no tufts), and yellow eyes. Every few winters one or two of these incredible birds makes it way down into Maine and when they do, they often stay out hunting throughout the day in open areas where they are easy to see. Birders, photographers, and let’s face it, just about anyone who hears about it, is excited to have the opportunity to see one of these amazing birds.

That celebrity popularity can sometimes cause problems. Large numbers of observers can crowd too close to the bird, edging closer and closer as they see the other person take a step close and feel like it’s fine to do so. Roads can become clogged with people and cars, making it complicated for local residents to get around, dangerous for the owl observers, or cause disturbance to the owl as it tries to find food.

Here in Maine at least two great gray owls have been sighted this winter. The observer of one has kept the location a secret to prevent disturbance to the owl. The other has been public, and many dozens of people have traveled to see it. There has been much controversy on the birding listserve as to whether some birders and photographers have harassed the bird or whether it could be in more danger from its proximity to a local shooting range. There was a time not many decades ago when any owl was more or less immediately shot on site. We are grateful that the times have changed and that people now want to enjoy them as fellow living creatures. We just have to be careful to treat them and the other people enjoying the experience with care and respect.

Jeffrey V. Wells, Ph.D., is a Fellow of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Dr. Wells is one of the nation's leading bird experts and conservation biologists, and author of “Birder’s Conservation Handbook.” His grandfather, the late John Chase, was a columnist for the Boothbay Register for many years. Allison Childs Wells, formerly of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, is a senior director at the Natural Resources Council of Maine, a statewide nonprofit membership organization working to protect the nature of Maine. Both are widely published natural history writers and coauthors of the book, “Maine’s Favorite Birds.”