The man got back from a 3-week trip to Turkey this week and he brought me a sweet little carved owl from the Mediterranean coast. Check it:
As kids, our house sat on a hill in Danville and a huge great horned owl - who must have lost his way from Mt. Diablo - used to swoop down and hang out on our balcony. He even got comfortable enough to let my brother feed him chopped meat from a heavily gloved hand. We called him Owly. Yeah, we were super clever kids.