Photos by David Lei and Jacqueline Emery
The last time Emery and Lei saw Flaco together, they were on a friend’s rooftop on West 86th Street. With a pigeon clamped firmly in his talons, Flaco flew from a nearby water tower to a spot directly above Emery and Lei. There he lingered, closer than he’d ever been, hooting. He peered down at them between bursts of song.
“It was magical,” Emery said. “I’ll never forget that.”
She paused, too choked up to continue, then added, “He looked so peaceful and happy. We shared that moment with each other.”
Lei said, “It was almost like he was saying hello. And goodbye.”
Ed Shanahan, who covered Flaco’s life and death for The Times. “Some saw him as an underdog, others, as an immigrant, still others as an outlaw,”
Shanahan writes. “More than a few, I imagine, saw him as all those things rolled into one.”
“Birds are objects of imagination because they have the ultimate free will: They can fly,” Lei said.
Owls don’t really belong in the city, but it makes for great photographs. RIP Flaco. Gone too soon.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone.
I was surprised a bit they were never able to recapture him. He would have lived a long and decent life.
But for a year he captured imaginations around the world with the gorgeous photos people got of him. It was good to see everyone stop to notice one special owl.
I wish whoever let him out never had done so, but Flaco chose to roam instead of return, so I hope he enjoyed his time in a place no other Eagle Owl has ever been.
I hope everyone has a happy and safe holiday and you get to see all those important to you.
