Calm and watchful, it is unaware of the further intrusion that awaits before its freedom is restored. Kevin first fastens a tiny silver band to the bird's leg, which is stamped with a number that will identify it individually, much like a social security number. Next, he weighs the bird and takes measurements of its right wing, tail and beak. He spreads its wings to examine the feathers, amid rapid snap snap snaps of protest that sound like knuckles cracking. Some of the owls we examine are hatchling year birds with uniform, glossy, dark brown feathers.
Older birds exhibit signs of molting.
They sport a mixture of dark, glossy feathers and lighter brown ones, which have been worn to a soft patina. Females are larger and make up the majority of the birds banded. Fewer males migrate as far south as the Otter Creek station, perhaps to remain closer to breeding areas in order to establish prime nesting territory for next year. Next, Kevin carefully lays each bird on it back, opens the right wing, bends down close to it and gently blows a stream of breath, parting the fluffy mass of feathers to reveal red or white skin. The skin of the birds we examine is generally a deep, reddish-pink, indicating that most of their body fat has been lost during their arduous journey.