Today there are owls left in only one tree. And there are four of them. Four tawny fromouths. Two adults and two chicks. They stand together in one clump. 

Also today are a few plants flowering: white maleleucas, pink gums, yellow eucalypts. 

And a few days later, nephew Fin says something along the lines of: “Those owl chicks—at first, when they were small, they were like little buds, and now that they’re bigger, they’re like little flowerings.”

On talking about this later, my wife insists the process should be called “Flowlering.”