The last episode of my chronicles saw me kinda taunting a little owlet over its airs. I had turned away with a good laugh thinking that I had had my share of owlet sightings, but I should have known better. We had not even gone the entire length of the safari when I already started feeling bad. What if the young owlet spread the word that I laughed at birds? What if none of them would cooperate with me anymore? I was crestfallen and wanted some reassurance.
Sure enough I cheered myself that I could hopefully catch another sighting of the very same owlet on my way back (the tree being very close to the gate). As I approached, I saw an owlet sitting in the oblong and my heart leaped with joy at the thought that I could make amends, only for it to fall to the lowest depths. For in the oblong was perched a different owlet, an older and more assured owlet who could look me in my face and make me cringe.
The pictures say it all (modified as the original photos were shot in bad light!)
I can’t say I remember what happened next. I did get other shots of birds though, so I guess I must have apologised. Oh well! There’s no winning with the owlets.