When life feels like a depressing-as-hell Melissa Etheridge song, you know the one, with the dreary refrain of WorkEatSleepWorkEatSleep, and the eat part is usually rahmen noodles straight from the pot and the sleep part is mostly mental imprisonment in recycling loops of work-related details, we all benefit from finding a way to feel more spontaneously alive. While my brother the pilot was a lifelong hawk and falcon expert, I have zero expertise in the field. Nonetheless, driving is something many of us can do. I signed up as a transport volunteer for the Teton Raptor Center in Wilson, WY, because no matter the assigned importance of my daily tasks, dropping them all in an effort to give injured birds a chance at rehabilitation brings me alive.

The rancher 2 hours south of here falling dead cottonwoods found three Great Horned Owl babies hopping through scattered limbs, parents and nest gone. A Game & Fish warden on his own time brought the babies to me, and I brought them another hour and a half north through spring snow flurries to the Raptor Center, where Patti, a volunteer, stepped out to meet me. The parking lot was packed and the converted historic barn hosted a group of folks there to learn from the assorted Avian Ambassadors whose injuries do not allow them to return to the wild. Do those birds have a sense of what they contribute to the greater good of raptors, their efforts given in gratitude for the care received? Or maybe they, like the many of us who find our various ways to volunteer, consider the intangible benefits even more worthwhile than food and shelter.

The 3 owlets were rehydrated and pronounced in good health, and word is now out for active Great Horned Owl nests where they may be incorporated into an existing family. More sharing and caring, that we have little clear way to know, but can—from our own experience—imagine.