The Burrowing Owl: America's Tiny Ground Owl That Lives in Prairie Dog Holes

Most owls are creatures of the night, gliding silently through dark forests on soft, muffled wings. But out on the open plains of the American West lives a very different kind of owl, one that stands on long legs in broad daylight, makes its home underground, and is barely taller than a soda can. This is the burrowing owl, one of North America's most charming and unusual birds.

A very unusual owl

The burrowing owl is a genuinely small bird, measuring only around nineteen to twenty five centimeters in length from head to tail. It has striking bright yellow eyes, long and slender legs, and brown, buffy white spotted feathers, along with a pale eyebrow that lends it a permanently surprised and slightly grumpy expression.

When it feels nervous or simply curious, the burrowing owl does something that looks almost comical to us. It bobs its whole body up and down in a jerky little motion that experienced birdwatchers quickly learn to recognize. Perched at the mouth of its burrow, this bobbing owl has become a much loved sight across the open country of the West.

Awake by day

Unlike most of its many relatives, the burrowing owl breaks the classic owl rule of sleeping all day and hunting only by night. During the breeding season it is largely diurnal, which simply means it is active in daylight, and it tends to concentrate much of its hunting around the softer, golden light of sunrise and sunset.

In the cooler months of the year it shifts back toward more nocturnal habits, but even then it is far more likely to be seen out in the open than a typical owl ever would be. Feeding mostly on insects and small rodents, it hunts across grasslands and fields, often watching patiently for its prey from a low perch or a fence post.

A home underground

The most surprising thing about this particular owl is written right there in its name. Instead of nesting up in a cozy tree hollow, the burrowing owl lives underground, in tunnels dug into the bare, open earth. It is very much a bird of wide, flat, treeless country, where it can see clearly across the landscape in every direction.

Yet despite that name, the owl only rarely digs these homes for itself. Instead, it prefers to move into burrows abandoned by other animals, especially the tunnels of prairie dogs, but also those of ground squirrels, badgers and foxes. Because prairie dogs live in large colonies, the owls often end up living in loose, semi colonial groups of their own.

The rattlesnake trick

Life down in a burrow can be dangerous, and so the burrowing owl has evolved a truly remarkable defense. When a predator approaches the entrance, the young owls hidden safely inside produce a hissing, rasping call that sounds startlingly like the rattle of a rattlesnake, a sound that very few animals ever dare to investigate too closely.

It is a brilliant and convincing piece of mimicry. To a curious fox or a hungry badger peering into a dark hole in the ground, that dry warning buzz strongly suggests a venomous snake coiled somewhere in the shadows, and so the safest possible choice is simply to back away and leave the little owlets in peace.

A bird in decline

Sadly, this quirky and endearing little owl is now facing some genuinely hard times. Its fortunes are tied very closely to open grasslands and to the burrowing animals whose tunnels it depends on, and both of these have been steadily disappearing. In parts of its range, the breeding area has shrunk dramatically over the past century alone.

The main threats are the plowing of native grasslands for agriculture, the relentless spread of construction and development, and the widespread eradication of prairie dog colonies. Without the prairie dogs and without the open prairie itself, the burrowing owl ends up losing both its home and its vital safety net all at once.

Worth standing up for

The burrowing owl is a wonderful reminder that not every owl fits the familiar storybook image, and that some of the most fascinating wildlife lives in the plain, open places that we all too easily overlook. Protecting native grasslands, and the prairie dogs that quietly engineer them, is in effect protecting this owl as well.

So if you ever find yourself driving through open country somewhere in the West and spot a small, long legged owl bobbing at the edge of a hole, do slow down and take a good look. You will be watching one of the prairie's true originals, calmly standing its ground in the wide open light of the day.