I caved. I named my Snowy Owl like so many photogs have done, like “Cellie” the famous SNOW last year that perched on a cell tower, or “Ramsey” the owl who came to the town of his namesake. So why Wilbur?
- It sounds like Willmar (pronounced will-mer) where he’s living for the winter.
- E.B. White, duh. Plus the guy had to be a birder for writing The Trumpet of the Swan.
- And because, well, he’s…
I name some of my local and individually identifiable birds, too.
A female Hairy Woodpecker with a bone-white bill comes to my yard. She’s “Ivy” because female and because it’s short for Ivory-billed.
If I can re-find the Shrike I found on Monday, it’s “Luther” because I found it on Martin Luther King day and because it makes Cardinals scatter and nails things to its larder.
Great name, Adam, but somehow I don’t think your Luther is bringing the message of forgiveness…
I’m Catholic, I didn’t learn that part.