After spending a week in the Chiricahua Mountains surveying the forest for owls, it’s impossible to look at trees the same way again.
At least, that’s what Dave Oleyar says. He’s the director of long-term monitoring and community science at Hawkwatch International, a nonprofit organization that has focused on raptor conservation for 40 years.
In other words, he’s a professional owl enthusiast.
Oleyar has been leading summer excursions in the Chiricahuas for a decade now, researching six understudied owl species: the western screech; whiskered screech; northern saw-whet; flammulated; northern pygmy; and the smallest species on Earth, the elf owl.
“They are amazing animals,” he says, “and they look into your soul.”
Tree cavities, Oleyar says, become like a seventh study organism since the owls roost in them.
“It’s not necessarily an eyesore once you realize that there’s a whole group of wildlife that rely on those holes in the trees,” he says.
Hawkwatch caught and banded 37 owls in the Chiricahuas this year. Since Oleyar began the excursions in 2016, more than 400 owls have joined that network, along with about 600 humans who’ve been involved in the community research that he leads each year. They learn how to listen for owl calls, catch the birds, band them and collect data like tail length, beak width and weight.
The more hands on deck for this research, the better: the owls are all small, live deep within the forest and all — besides the pygmy — are nocturnal.
“Lots of ears let us listen for owls in the forest. We couldn't do this work without the added people power,” Oleyar says. “But more importantly, conservation requires conversations about the issues that are affecting these species. It requires buy in and it requires valuing.”
It also takes time. At least 10 years of data collection is needed to start making informed conclusions, Oleyar says. That decade is right around the corner for some of the programs he leads.
And the ultimate goal, he says, is to “design a survey methodology that we could port elsewhere and use for other small owl species.”
Owls are underrepresented in research globally. Earlier this year, Hawkwatch awarded all of its Global Raptor Research and Conservation Grants solely to owl researchers in Africa, Asia and Central and South America in an effort to fill those knowledge gaps.
“We don't have a lot of information about whether their species are increasing, decreasing or staying the same. And that's pretty concerning,” Oleyar says.
In addition to their inherent value, Oleyar says, these creatures play a critical role in southern Arizona by keeping populations of insects, small mammals and reptiles in check.
A classroom in the Sky Islands
As the Milky Way comes into view above, the ground is crunching and crickets are chattering.
An elf owl resting atop a Chihuahua pine tree responds to a series of recorded calls. Below him, a group of researchers have their ears perked and nets ready for the moment it swoops down.
When caught, the owl lets out a high-pitched screech. His brow furrowed, he weighs just over an ounce and stands at about the height of a pear.
It’s not a typical group of researchers watching him. About 12 teachers from across the country are a few days into their excursion with Hawkwatch in the Chiricahua Mountains at the Arizona-New Mexico border. They teach various subjects at different grade levels, but have joined together on a grant project with the Earthwatch Institute, another nonprofit organization that funds educators each year to gain hands-on experience with environmental scientists like Oleyar and his team.
Chasitite Neal is the lead fellow on this particular week-long excursion. She’s a Special Education teacher from Chicago who says she’ll take this experience back to her classroom to show students how accessible conservation can be.
“Even if you were not aware, did not know, you can come into these spaces or be put into spaces in our localities and learn exactly what we're doing from experience. You don't need to know all the terms, you don't need to do all that, but you're acting,” Neal says.
This is Neal’s second expedition with the Earthwatch Institute. Last year, she traveled to Brazil to study deforestation and Atlantic Forest wildlife.
“I thought it was a scam. I thought, like, you’re paying me — a city teacher — to travel to Brazil for free?” Neal says. “Organizations like Earthwatch are providing a lot of opportunity and benefits to teachers to ensure that we are still encouraged to bring this knowledge of conservation to our classrooms.”
During a nighttime owl survey, Jorge Villela has a flashlight at the ready, his hood on his head as protection from the swarms of moths and a speaker in his hand to play owl calls.
He teaches at a STEM-focused school in Los Angeles and leads the afterschool science club there.
“Seeing the night sky full of stars — we really don't get that being in the city. I want to show them pictures of it. It's different just seeing it in a book versus, ‘Oh, your own teacher was there.’ They really feel more engaged with the material once they know their teacher was in it,” Villela says.
It’s clear the sight or sound of an owl and the Southwest environment delights these teachers. It also still excites the researchers who are guiding them.
Jess Taylor is a research biologist with Hawkwatch. She’s based in Salt Lake City where the organization is headquartered. Taylor says she didn’t care for the environment like she does today until she understood that “nature is in your backyard.”
“People can't care about things that they don't know about. I grew up not knowing about a lot of things in nature. To me, nature was the frogs in the retention pond in my neighborhood,” she says through giggles.
Kassandra Townsend, a graduate research associate with Hawkwatch, is another lead on the summer excursions. She says including non-scientists in this work is important because, historically, Western science has extracted from communities.
“We’re actually inviting people to take accountability for the science and be a part of it. From what I’ve heard from people that have been involved is they feel like they’re contributing but also, they feel a sense of responsibility to take what they’ve learned here in the middle of nowhere Arizona and apply it to where they live,” she says.
Lauren Hubert is another teacher who is taking these observations back to her high schoolers in Phoenix.
“The overall important concept behind this whole program is understanding how climate change is affecting the owls,” she says. “Climate change is driving things upwards, uphill. And as they go further uphill to get away from the heat, there is more competition because there’s less space.”
For Oleyar, the wonder of meeting a new owl is never lost even after several decades of this work.
“They’re so highly adapted to get by in the dark world with low light vision and directional hearing and silent flight that they’re one of the pinnacles of evolution,” he says. “It’s just an amazingly adapted group of animals and convincing other people to see that is fun.”
Welcome to The Roost
While Oleyar has observed their ups and downs over the past decade in the Chiricahuas, he says this year shows signs of hope for the owls.
“Streams were running in early spring, which they weren't in 2025, and there was a lot more owl activity because there was a lot more insect prey available. So that was neat to see,” Oleyar says.
For several years, Hawkwatch has kept track of the western screech-owl and American kestrel populations flying through Tucson, too.
Earlier this year, an anonymous donor gifted the organization 16 acres in the north central region of the city. Oleyar is now head of the property known as The Roost.
It’s a wide-open green space tucked away amongst the strip malls, doctor’s offices and major roadways nearby. There are cypress trees, junipers, eucalyptuses and willows; Oleyar says there’s lots of potential to plant vegetation native to the Sonoran and Chihuahuan deserts.
Already, a pair of great horned owls is roosting in the trees. From a wooden nest box, a tiny western screech flashes its yellow eyes to those watching below.
“It will be open space for wildlife in perpetuity,” Oleyar says.
Starting next year, The Roost will be an education hub for youth and adults to learn about the work Hawkwatch and other environmental organizations are doing. It’s also an opportunity to expand their program called CARES, or Cavity-Adopting Raptor Ecology Studies. Tucson residents can adopt a nest box and report sightings of western screech owls and American kestrels to Hawkwatch.
The organization has a migration monitoring site at the Grand Canyon and another in Tubac where common black hawks, gray hawks and zone-tailed hawks are counted in the spring.
The Roost is not open to the public, but in the coming months, Hawkwatch International will start hosting events there. Until then, those who want to join their team of community scientists can fill out an interest form on their website.
