Day 18 in Russia (and Quite an Owl Sighting)

Before returning you to the Olympic scene here in Sochi, I have to show you four owl photographs. There were taken this past weekend by the renowned naturalist and writer Bernd Heinrich at his cabin in western Maine. Bernd, whose books include the delightful One Man's Owl, was generous enough to share them with his friends at The Naturalist's Notebook.

He noticed the owl looking down at the snow.

Here is Bernd's email description of what happened after he first saw the owl:

"I watched it for around 20 minutes, and it looked at me now and then—our eyes locked, but then again it was mostly interested in something on the ground. It seemed quite animated, and I talked to it and it was totally relaxed. But I could see it almost twitch with excitement every once in a while as it focused on something below. Suddenly it would lean over and partially spread its wings. Then it settled and relaxed, as I pressed against the window and took lots of pictures. I could see it was interested again and got my camera ready as it turned around the other way on the perch,  bent over to look down again and—zoom—it dived down and onto the snow, and flew up with a shrew in its talons. It flew to the same old perch at the top of the birch by [another] cabin where I'd seen it before in the dark, and swallowed the shrew with a gulp. There were NO tracks of the short-tailed shrew in the snow where the owl got it. It got it through the loose snow there.

The owl suddenly flew down—and came up with a vole. There had been no tracks in the snow.

Here's the owl back in the tree where Bernd first saw him.

Thank you, Bernd!

While we're on the subject of wildlife—of which I still have noticed precious little in Sochi—here's one of the few birds I've seen. Can any of you identify it?

I saw a few of these in Olympic Park.

Now back to the Olympics...

One of the rules of the Olympics is that only broadcasters who pay for the rights are allowed to shoot video/TV in the venues. That leaves other TV crews searching for places that LOOK like the Olympics but are located elsewhere. I feel as though every time I walk somewhere in the Main Press Center (including this patio area in the back), I pass a TV reporter doing a standup: ("And I can't BELIEVE that I don't even have to wear a jacket here at the WINTER Olympics…").

Remember the photo of the blue, gingerbread-house-like Ded Moroz Residence in the last post? Today there was no line so I went inside and saw Ded Moroz—pronounced, rather morbidly, "dead morose"—the Russian equivalent of Santa Claus.

Let's eat!

Let's eat! This is a typical Olympic press center cafeteria dinner: dumplings—Russians make very good ones—and a beet salad. If you want atmosphere, or appetizing presentation,  the cafeteria is not the place to go, but for journalists at the Olympics there is frequently no other option.

The cafeteria suggestion book sounds like a Milan Kundera novel.

We have an unusual vending machine outside our office at the Main Press Center. It offers everything from croissants to Viennese waffles. Or…small rusks, anyone?

We have an unusual vending machine outside our office. It offers everything from croissants to Viennese waffles. Small rusks, anyone?

Lest anyone think I was making fun of the baked-potato vending stands in Olympic Park in my last post, this was my lunch yesterday in the cafeteria. The potato topping of the day was chopped-up smoked salmon. Not bad at all.

Some of our staff members are getting desperate. One photographer's food intake for a day at the mountain venues consisted of Twix bars and peanut M & Ms.

Yes, there are Russian Cheetos. Someone else in the SI office bought them. Really, I swear.

Pancakes, crepes, blinis…whatever variation you like, there are plenty available, including at stands like this in Olympic Park.

I visited some Russian pin traders in the park. There is a pin-trading area outside the Coca-Cola (sponsor) pavilion.

Here are some pins—medallions, really—from the 1980 Moscow Summer Olympics. I have some like this at home that I picked up on a 1986 Sports Illustrated writing assignment in Moscow.

The most popular spot in Olympic Park is the Superstore, which sells souvenirs. The wait to get in is typically at least an hour. You can cut to the front if you have a child with you, so one man has been renting his child out to shoppers who don't want to wait in line. My colleague saw the kid go in with different people at least five times.

How can anyone not like Olympics at which volunteers are giving out free hugs?

A few odds and ends from the last few days:

1) I know that many of you love plants, so, for the record, the flowers in those bouquets given to medalists on the podium immediately after events consist of goldenrod, laurel, eucalyptus and chrysanthemum.

2) We closed our second week of Sports Illustrated magazine coverage in the wee hours of Monday morning. Alas, Olympics did not make the cover, but this week they should.

3)

 A group of Russians protested the disallowed goal in their team's hockey loss to the U.S. by shredding bars of soap with cheese graters and yelling a traditional Russian sports chant that literally translates as, "Referee to soap!"  The chant demands that an official who made an unpopular call —in this case an American referee—literally be boiled down and rendered into soap. And lest you think the Cold War is entirely over, a major Russian newspaper wrote, “An American referee and the puppet international federation deprived us of a deserved victory.”

With just five days left in the Games, the torch burns on.