There was nothing Fred Pickering liked better than standing on his back porch on a warm summer's evening watching the sun dip down below the horizon. Well, almost nothing. Fred loved birds. He loved everything about birds. His personal library of bird books numbered in the dozens. He had bird feeders hanging from most of the trees in his yard and he'd even given names to several of the more recognizable birds. His coffee mug had a glazed-over picture of a male cardinal with all it's majestic red wing feathers spread out in a magnificent display. One night Fred hears an owl somewhere near his house and decides to try to communicate with it. He tries out his best owl call and gets an answer. After several nights of this, Fred is sure he and the owl are communicating on a personal basis. Could it be? Maybe, maybe not. Don't call Ripley's just yet, Fred.