On film negatives or on digital images stored on countless CDs abound bison on the Tall Grass Prairie Preserve in Oklahoma, prairie dogs in Custer State Park in South Dakota, Dall sheep and grizzly bears in Alaska, moose and more in Yellowstone National Park and the Grand Tetons, elk everywhere from Yosemite National Park to Olympic National Park, mountain goats at Glacier National Park, mule deer at the Grand Canyon, loons and Great Blue Herons from New England to Savannah, western jays and wild turkeys at Bryce and Zion National parks.

Yet, in the Brentwood National Wildlife Refuge, better known as my parents' backyard, nature comes to play regularly.

In fact, last June, a doe gave birth to a pair of fawns in the shade of the hickory and hemlock trees. For a day, one of the newborns lay camouflaged in a bed of myrtle while the mother fed the other. Though the family continues to ravage my sister Mary's garden, the yearling entertains me for hours. For example, this past Sunday the young deer played hide-and-seek with a skittish squirrel as my Nikon snapped off a few frames.

At one such alfresco feast, I countered enthusiastically, "To the beach!"

Ever the observant Mary, who should have been the journalist, noted with glee. "We haven't seen those dumb little bunnies either."

In these past two weeks, the Rockwood Drive residents discovered why. No, the red-tailed hawks that perch on the high-tension wires by day and nest in the woods at the end of the street do not deserve all the credit. The owls probably do. On the evenings that I covered the National Kidney Foundation's 2008 U.S. Transplant Games in Pittsburgh, three were spotted. Hence, a parliament. According to The Owl Pages, a Web site, that's the term for such a group gathering.

Dubbed the CPOs because the Colonial Park contingent claimed them as their own, for they heard their hoots first, the owl continue to be the talk of the town, a source of speculation and a wealth of wisdom.

Having consulted the encyclopedia, two National Audubon Society books on North American birds and other resources, the owls were determined to be of the "Barred" variety. These "Night Watchmen Of Our Gardens" feed on mice, rats, moles and shrews. Large owls can also eat rabbits and squirrels, even small pets. The owls range in height from 14 to 17 inches and some, like the Great Horned Owl, have wingspans as wide as 54 to 60 inches.

After retrieving these facts left on my answering machine, I returned my sister's fervent phone call. Almost immediately I naively asked, "Think they'll be back?"

"Maybe," Mary replied. "Just bring your camera when you get over here again."

Almost breathlessly she threw in proudly, "There's a baby!"

An owlet.

So, after a family dinner at Mores' Restaurant in Oakland late Saturday afternoon, we ventured outside for the vigil. Nikon clutched tightly and finger firmly on the shutter release button, I jumped up from the porch swing when I noticed next-door-neighbors Bonnie and Tony Antonelli with their son, Stephen, trading a pair of binoculars. Scanning the darkening surroundings, a large shape appeared in the viewfinder. A furry, white-feathered mass adorned the umbrella top of another neighbor's patio table.

"It's the owl," I shrieked.

Instantly the figure took flight and swooped silently onto the Antonellis' fence. One more lift-off and it landed in the silver maple tree in our backyard. Until we could tolerate the mosquitoes no longer, we scoured the branches for a few more glimpses. Only their screams of delight after a successful kill or their calls to their young canceled the growing silence.

Anticipating an encore, dusk could return none too soon for the euphoric and enraptured audience. Around 8:30 p.m. the spectators spill out of their surrounding houses and flock to their lookouts. Patiently waiting, pausing periodically, they ask each other, "Do you seen them, yet?"

"Where are they?"

"Right there," said Gloria from across the Antonelli fence. "Jump over and I'll show you the best spot to get a great picture."

With vision as sharp as my sister's, Gloria pointed to perches and predicted flight patterns all the while spouting off further fascinating facts, such as hollow trees are a favorite nesting place for owls. As I feverishly snapped frame after frame, thinking that I'm in paradise, the deer paraded past, prompting Gloria to cry out, "Man you people have Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom in your backyard."

Indeed, we all do. As we struggle to balance today's quest for travel with high fuel prices and energy conservation a trip to one's own backyard can prove refreshing, rewarding, even priceless if we just take the time to look.

Info box note:

South Park, which is less than a gallon of gas away for most Almanac readers, even those with SUVs, is teeming with wildlife, including red fox, deer, turkey and, of course, the beloved buffalo. A herd of 15, four of which are calves born this spring, have grazed here since the 1920s. According to park officials, there is no move a foot to transfer them to Round Hill Park or anywhere else.