Three days ago, when I last checked on the progress of my—you try hard not to get possessive, but it isn't usually possible—Great Horned owlets, the pair seemed fine and growing rapidly. I knew that they were getting close to fledging, but I figured we had at least another week or two before they started to fly, albeit tentatively. I'd also heard that the youngsters tend to hang around the nest for a while and mooch food from indulgent parents while the owlets are learning the predation ropes. I reckoned I had more time to chronicle their development, but I was clearly wrong. Today, the nest was absolutely empty. I had kind of a bad feeling about the disappearance, but a thorough search around the nest tree turned up no sign of an accident—nests do collapse—or foul play. So I'll choose to believe that the babies have grown up and taken to the air. I'm sad that I never got the chance to say goodbye—and good, good luck.