Northern Saw-whet Owl — Wings of NH

What you notice first

You almost never notice one on your own. In spring, a monotonous "toot… toot… toot" all night from wet woods, one note a second, going on for minutes.

Voice

The steady whistled "toot" advertising song of spring; a rising, whining "skiew" (the "saw-whet," said to sound like a saw being sharpened); various barks and squeals.

Where & when

Dense conifers and mixed woods with thick cover, North Country and mid-elevations, for breeding. Everywhere in October as a migrant — banding stations across the Northeast, including in New Hampshire, catch hundreds passing through in a good year.

A songbird-sized owl — smaller than a robin is long — with a big round head, no ear tufts, a pale facial disc, and a startled yellow-eyed stare. Cryptic, strictly nocturnal, and a champion at sitting still against a tree trunk all day, which is why a bird that migrates through in real numbers is one most New Hampshire birders have never seen without help.

The October migration was invisible until banders started putting up nets and playing the toot call after dark. It turns out a river of small owls moves down the ridgelines and the coast every fall, and pulses of them can be caught in a single night.

Your realistic paths to one: a public owl-banding demonstration in October, or learning the spring song and standing in the right wet woods after dark in April.