During the summer, it’s much too hot out to go outside. I try to sneak in a walk around the neighborhood park first thing in the morning before the sun starts to bake the shadeless stroll. Then I close up the curtains and block out the outdoors while carefully managing the AC. Once night falls, I’ll take a final walk after 10 p.m. and reluctantly switch out my tank top and shorts for better clothing coverage against the night bugs that tickle across my skin looking for a spot to chomp.

The nighttime usually brings a gentle calm, but it also heightens my senses in order to navigate the dark. I often hear the high-pitched squeaks of the bats flapping overhead well before I see them. A Northern Mockingbird may gently sing a quick tune while tucked away in its hidden roost. But the part I love the most is keeping my eyes and ears out for Barn Owls.

I’ve always thought it odd that Barn Owls would hunt around my neighborhood, and yet I’ve encountered them on many occasions well past sunset. Typically I hear a single raspy screech that is diagnostic of the species. I frequently whip out my phone in hopes of recording a follow-up call, but I’m usually unsuccessful. Many nights I never hear it vocalize but instead catch a glimpse of the ghostly creature gracefully, and ever so silently, flying over the rooftops. The pure lack of sound is what makes these owls such a greater hunter, pouncing on their prey before it ever knows what hit them. To catch sight of the gentle flight is awe-inspiring and is juxtaposed against its blood-stopping call.

On one particular night, I had a new experience to add to the list. While walking with my husband, our flashlights caught the reflection of dozens of golden objects that landed in the grass next to a basketball court. My silly mind immediately jumped to the idea that we were witnessing fireflies out here in the California Central Valley (spoiler alert: we don’t get fireflies!). Once my excitement settled down, I realized it was gold party confetti littering the grass. My jolt of adrenaline quickly faded into frustration. Birds frequently forage that area and the foil confetti would likely scare them away. Who knows if a recently fledged bird or other park animal would naively mistake it for food. I resolved to pick up the garbage when I could.

The following day, armed with a small bag and a glove, I picked up the trash and foil pieces around the area. Neighbors saw me and gave me smiles or offers to help. I hoped that this would inspire folks to keep the park clean for the sake of the non-people inhabitants of the area.

Had I not been on my night walk and taking in my surroundings, I might not have noticed the trash that blended in so well in the grass but brightly showed itself against the flashlight. It’s just one more reason why the night walks support my bird adventures.