Spring hootenanny

It's late and dark. Sitting with my laptop on the couch, I heard faintly what I supposed was distant owls, and went quietly outside onto the porch to listen. For a few minutes I was charmed by a call-and-response series of hoots, the very iconic "hoo-hoo ... hoo-HOO" pattern that I assume is great horned owls. After a few of these, I glimpsed a very large winged shape swoop across the slightly lighter city glow of the sky, flit across the sky above the yard and up to the darkness of the trees on top of the hills, where the hoot-and-answer resumed. (Now even louder, echoing faintly; it's such a deep, grand sound when they're close.)

I can now add "saw a great horned owl fly at night" to my list of life experiences. I've seen them sitting in the trees at twilight a few times, but never that.