“There are so many bugs,” I said.  “Let’s go.”

“Let’s just stay another few minutes,” he urged. I followed him through the crunchy brush to one of the larger oaks that was marked with Dad’s red spray paint. I had to agree that it appeared somewhat larger than 20 inches in circumference.

Looking through the binoculars, Collin swept his eyes up the trunk. His lens lingered as he looked at a spot partway up the tree.

“Take a look,” he said, offering me the binoculars after a few minutes.

“You’re acting smug,” I said but took them anyway. As I scanned the tree, Collin began to collect small rocks from the forest floor.

“What are we doing?” I asked for the second time. I didn’t see anything particularly interesting as I looked through the scratched lenses. 

“Look for a cluster of twigs and things,” he urged. “Also, watch out.” 

I looked up and down the tree, and Collin began to hurl his stones up towards the spot he had examined. I trained my binoculars on the area, and watched as rocks sailed past my field of vision, framed in the black circles of the binoculars.

I finally managed to locate the cluster that Collin had described. “Is that a nest?” I asked.

“Yup,” Collin said, too self-satisfied.

He rained rocks on the area and, as one of them hit it squarely, I could hear a shuffle above me. Through the lens, I watched as a magnificent owl emerged and peeked its head out. Collin ceased fire, and the bird, likely startled from slumber by Collin’s rocks, began to beat its wings. It turned its head left and right, momentarily shook its spotted body, and sailed away.