Daylight Savings Time ends on Sunday. But there’s just one problem: Owls don’t know how to turn the clocks back.

Update, 11/2/18: Our little screech owl friend appears to be feeling much better! And it turns out she is likely a female, so I have updated the story. Thanks to Owl Moon Raptor Center, she is receiving treatment for her concussion and her pain. I’ll provide more information as we receive it. Thanks to everyone for caring and for spreading the word!

Update, 11/17/18:  She’s back where she belongs, after a successful release into my neighbor’s tree-filled habitat. See below for details.

She was in the same spot where my husband had left her, still stunned but alert enough to move her head and look us straight in the eye. A casualty of suburbia’s most dangerous predators—speeding vehicles—the little Eastern screech owl probably still wondered what had hit her.

Just a few minutes before on Halloween morning, Will had been jogging through the neighborhood when he spotted the bird. Curled up in the road, the owl would surely have been hit again soon enough, especially in the increasingly low-light conditions of autumn.  As nights grow longer and mornings darker, cities and suburbs become even more perilous for nocturnal creatures. Humans remain stubbornly stuck to our arbitrary clocks, while these animals continue to follow their natural rhythms, foraging and hunting until daylight.

After placing the owl under a tree and out of harm’s way, Will ran back home to retrieve basic equipment—a box, gloves, hand towels—and a little help from me. When we returned to the tree, the owl was mostly immobile and didn’t try to flee from us at all. It was 39 degrees outside, much too cold for an animal who can’t move. “You should bring her in,” said Suzanne Shoemaker, who’d picked up the phone on the first ring when I called her organization, Owl Moon Raptor Center in Boyds, Md.

Suzanne was so helpful and welcoming that I already felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Wildlife rehabilitators are few and far between in my area, and they are often at capacity. Owl Moon is about an hour away, but I knew it would be worth the drive. First I just needed to make sure our tiny friend was as comfortable and safe as possible. After poking holes in a large shoebox for ventilation and lining the box with towels, Will and I put the owl in the box and placed the precious cargo on the floor of the back seat of my well-heated car. I peeked once to make sure the owl was settling in and found her hiding in the corner. Then we added a little piece of duct tape to hold the lid in place.

When I arrived at Owl Moon, Suzanne and I went to her triage area, where she weighed her newest patient in at 168 grams (about a third of a pound) and examined her for signs of broken bones, fractures, eye injuries, and bleeding. Though she found none, the owl was clearly not feeling well, barely opening her eyes anymore and not even slightly protesting. “It’s a good thing you found her when you did,” Suzanne said. “A lot of times we don’t get them until they’ve been down for a long time, and they’re really emaciated and dehydrated, and there’s not much we can do.”

Suzanne asked if I wanted to help administer fluids and then placed the owl on a towel in my lap. My job was to hold her back legs away from each other so she could reach the injection sites. As the electrolytes coursed into the owl’s veins, I thought I heard the faintest burbling sounds. Suzanne and I joked it was our stomachs, but then I heard it again … and again … and again. To me it sounded like the faintest version of an owl trill—something much sweeter than the noises that typically come out of my angry belly.

More exams would come later, including a closer look at the eyes, which in owls extend further back than their ears, Suzanne explained, “so it takes up more space in their heads than their brain does. Every time they get head trauma, they almost always get eye injuries too.”

The owl was not out of the woods yet, but at least she was out of the road. Unfortunately, there will be many more victims of drivers going too fast and too carelessly. “It’s dark earlier, and the owls are out during the traffic,” says Suzanne. “And we get a huge uptick as soon as the clocks turn back.”

A Happy Ending: After more than two weeks of care, our little owl was ready to return home and making quite a racket inside her carrier. Opening the flap with volunteer and apprentice rehabber Sherrie Musick, I was amazed to see her huge eyes; her whole aspect had changed since the last time we saw her. She was no longer stunned and scared and trying to hide; she looked beautiful and fierce and ready to take on the world. I had little time to admire her, though. Suddenly I felt a breeze on my face, the wind trailing in the wake of her powerful wings, and she was gone, up into the trees at my neighbor’s house.

For more information …

Driving Safely: Mindful driving is key to protecting wildlife, who often find much-needed habitat in the spaces between development and roads. Read practical tips for keeping a watchful eye—and learn what to do (and not do) when you see an animal in danger—in “Roadside Assistance.”

Seasonal Deer Tips: It’s mating season for deer, so be especially careful. This article from the the Wild Neighbors program at the Humane Society of the United States, “How to Avoid Vehicular Collisions with Deer,” can help you navigate the increased activity more safely.

Working with Wildlife Rehabilitators: If you find a wild animal who appears injured or otherwise in distress, call a licensed wildlife rehabilitator for assistance in determining whether and how to help. In Maryland, where I live, other organizations I support include Second Chance Wildlife Center in Gaithersburg and City Wildlife in Washington, D.C.;  the Maryland Department of Natural Resources  offers an online menu of contacts throughout the state. For help elsewhere, check out the HSUS’s “How to Find a Wildlife Rehabilitator” page or the website of your state natural resources agency.

(Photos by Nancy Lawson and Will Heinz)