Tiny owl books flight to wing of BPL

The owl made a wise choice. Or so it would seem.

The northern saw-whet picked a perch on a ledge in the Boston Public Library's third-floor Sargent Gallery appropriately near a bust of Athena, the ancient Greek goddess of wisdom, whose symbol is an owl. The small brown-and-white bird, about the size of a soda can, was a visitor in the BPL for two days recently.

''It's significant that the owl came into McKim," said Henry Scannell of the Microtext and Newspaper Department.

Scannell tried (unsuccessfully) to convince the Children's Department to organize a reading of Harry Potter books, which feature owls, in the gallery to mark the occasion.

''Of all BPL rooms, it looks the most like Hogwarts, and if an owl were to fly around, it would be a natural setting to promote the book," he said.

The library ledge was far from the owl's usual haunts in forests, where it often hides in woodpecker-bored tree cavities along its range of migration, which extends roughly from Pennsylvania and Maryland to northern Canada.

''It's not every day you find an owl inside a building," said Simon Perkins, a field ornithologist for the Mass. Audubon Society. ''In fact, this may be the first time I've ever heard of a saw-whet in a building in Boston."

And they are a rare sight in Massachusetts at all. Although they travel through the state in large numbers during migration, they seldom hang around long, according to Linda Cocca, Mass. Audubon's coordinator of wildlife information. ''They're migrating at this time of year, and they do occasionally go into an opening along the way, but in my opinion, this is very unusual."

Owls can be spotted roosting occasionally in trees downtown, however.

''One boreal owl spent most of the winter on Commonwealth Avenue a few years ago," Perkins said. ''It perched in a yew tree outside of an apartment building. Since boreals nest almost exclusively in northern Canada, this drew large numbers of birders."

The recent owl, dubbed Hootie by library staff, was first spotted April 7, on the ledge in the 26-foot-high gallery, which features American painter John Singer Sargent's ''Triumph of Religion" mural sequence. Director of operations Ruth Kowal quickly circulated a memo alerting staff to the bird's presence: ''Please try to be quiet so it won't feel threatened." Staff speculated that the owl had entered through an open window.

''Our rooms are large, with varying temperatures," said social sciences curator Marta Pardee-King. ''We open the windows periodically, and a bird can get in."

''But we usually don't get any as pretty as this owl," she said.

Rare Books staffer Stuart Walker, a birder of 45 years, concurred that the saw-whet was a looker.

''It was about the cutest thing I have ever seen," he said. Hootie was his first sighting of a saw-whet.

The northern saw-whet is about 7 inches high, with a wingspan of 17 inches. It weighs only about 3 to 4 ounces. The only owl smaller is the elf owl from the Southwest desert, according to Perkins. The species, first discovered in 1788 in what is now Nova Scotia, was named for its ''skiew" call, which resembles the whetting, or sharpening, of a saw.

The owl, which is capable of killing up to six mice in succession, may have found lunch in the library. Several custodial staffers reported signs of what appeared to be mouse remains.

A nocturnal bird, the northern saw-whet is seldom seen by people, so Hootie's appearance in the BPL caused some excitement among birders as well as the merely curious.

Cataloguer Jack Sullivan and Audio-Visual head Steve Olson were among bird-watchers on the library staff who checked the owl off their lists.

''We're like the patrons, we like to see these things," said Pardee-King, who reported an influx of birders and families, particularly after a photo was published in the Globe April 8.

But by April 9, it appeared that Hootie had flown its cultured coop.

The evening before, several staff reported seeing the owl fly into the adjacent Albert H. Wiggin Gallery, which looks out onto the courtyard. But then it was seen no more.

''We miss him already and we're hoping that he'll come back and see us on his way back down to where they winter," said facilities officer Robert Flynn.

Kowal's Friday memo noted the bird's apparent emancipation.

''What better stop than the Boston Public Library for the owl, symbol of wisdom, to take up residence?"