by Beau Musch age 9

One winter evening an owl glided around seeking for something juicy to eat. It was hard to spot anything because the woods just got a big snowfall. Snow was on everything; snow plopped here and there.

The owl glided for half an hour and still nothing came into sight. He hoped only for a tiny mouse. Finally he landed into the high branches of a tree to wait. He creepily screeched to make something move. Something did move. Out of the corner of the owl's round eye he spotted a squirrel eating corn from a bird feeder.

Tensely the owl turned around facing his prey. Quietly, but swiftly, he swooped down at his prey. Just before he grabbed the squirrel the owl let out a horrible screech. Before the squirrel could leap from the feeder it found itself in the clutch of the owl's sharp claws.

The squirrel struggled, then felt the owl's sharp beak rip into his side and he was dead.

Jack, watching from the kitchen window said excitedly to his brother Ron, "Did you see that?"

"No," his brother said.

"An owl just grabbed a squirrel from the feeder!"

"Cool!" said Ron. "Wish I would have seen it."

They talked for a while about the owl attack on the squirrel while the owl ripped pieces of flesh and meat off the squirrel's body high on his branch in the tree. After he ate his dinner he flew off into the dark night.