ANACORTES — As two women ran through the forest recently, one turned to see a barred owl swoop toward her jogging partner, flying like the forest was on fire.

The dive-bombing barred owl, likely aiming for the jogger’s ponytail, missed and repeated the attack, said Denise Crowe, Education and Outreach Director with Friends of the Anacortes Community Forest Lands. Crowe spoke with one of the joggers who fended off the second swoop by swinging a tree branch before they quickly left the area.

The swooping fowl was one of three dive-bombing owl incidents within 24 hours around Sept. 18, Crowe said.

“Each time the running partner was instrumental in warding them off,” she said.

Those attacks led managers with the Anacortes City Parks and Recreation Department to post signs warning hikers and joggers of aggressive owls in the vicinity of the eastern intersection of two trails, No. 115 and 116, near Little Beaver Pond in the Cranberry Lake area.

Two theories may explain the recent owl incidents.

State wildlife biologists say a pair of owls may be aggressively protecting their young as they learn to fly and hunt. And Crowe, who also is a naturalist, said she and a few people in British Columbia where there have been similar incidents, think an young, hungry owl with little experience hunting is mistaking the hats and ponytails for prey.

“I liken it to a kitten that can’t let anything go without grabbing at it,” Crowe said.

Whether the owl is an inexperienced hunter or a protective parent, barred owls are capable of flying up to 40 mph. Jonn Lunsford, forest lands manager, said the impact of a diving owl packs a punch, which has “freaked” the victims out.

“Owls are silent when they swoop, and then you’re hit and you’re disoriented,” Lunsford said.

In addition to frightening a few runners this year, owls have flown off with at least one hat and badly scratched the neck of at least one woman. While owls are considered nocturnal, barred owls are active during the day, and two attacks have occurred in mid-afternoon.

“There’s not a whole lot you can do about it, other than warning people they should be on the lookout for kamikaze owls,” said Ruth Milner, a biologist with the State Department of Fish and Wildlife. “We’re in their habitat when we go hiking in the woods.”

It’s not the first time owls have swooped at joggers. The first reported incident in the Anacortes forest was 2001, Crowe said. Other incidents have been reported in Vancouver, B.C., Bellingham and other Western Washington communities with urban forests. No cyclists or equestrians have reported any owl incidents in Anacortes.

Over the years, the owl incidents have changed the perceptions of a few of those joggers who encountered the owls, making them look at the city’s forest differently, Crowe said.

Often people who report being dived bombed by an owl want to now whether the owls will snatch small dogs or if they are ill or rabid, Milner said. The answer is no in both cases.

State wildlife officials generally receive reports about swooping owls in July and August when young owlets are learning to fly and hunt, Milner said. Earlier in the year, when owls have eggs or small young, they tend to be secretive because they don’t want predators, such as crows, snatching the babies. But as their young get ready to leave the nest, owl parents’ protective behavior changes, she said.

“When these birds have very young close to fledging, or young that have fledged, (their parents) start getting really protective of them,” Milner said. “The striking ... is not about prey. It’s about: Get away from my kids.”

Owls tend to return to the same general area each year to nest, meaning it’s possible the aggressive behavior could resume late next summer, she said. Or the owls might nest further from the trail.

“Most people are excited that there are young owls in the area,” Milner said.

In the Anacortes forest, most of the attacks over the past six years have involved female joggers with ponytails or short hair, Lunsford said. But owl incidents this year involved men wearing ball caps, Crowe said.

The Skagit Valley Herald attempted to contact two people who reported being attacked, but phone messages weren’t returned.

In one recent hat-stealing incident, an owl swiped a jogger’s favorite red baseball cap and settled on a branch out of reach of the runner, Crowe said. The man waited hoping the owl would drop his hat but the bird didn’t, she said.

“It’s been a sporadic phenomenon,” Crowe said.

Barred owls are relatively new residents of the Anacortes forest, Crowe said. They were first spotted on Fidalgo Island about 10 years ago. That’s because they migrated from forests east of the Rocky Mountains to Canada and then the Northwest, Crowe said.

Barred owls have taken up residence in new growth forests that have sprouted up in the wake of logging, and they occupy the ecological niche once held by their cousin the spotted owl, which is listed as threatened on the federal Endangered Species List, scientists say. Like other owls, the barred are protected under the federal Migratory Bird Treaty Act.

Overall, owl and human encounters generally aren’t confrontational, scientists say. Both Crowe and Lunsford, who each have spent countless hours in the forest lands, have never seen an owl attack.

“I’ve seen owls, and they’ve never lifted a feather at me,” Lunsford said.

Barred owls aren’t shy and stay fairly active during the day, Crowe said. They are pretty vocal, especially when courting, she said. They grunt, squeak and even sound like a human screaming, she said. Their call sounds like “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?” Crowe said.

Crowe said that once a barred owl has perched on maple overhead while she talked to a group of school children she had brought into the woods to learn about the forest lands. That day a raven flew overhead, and the owl divided its attention between the class on the ground and the bird above, demonstrating how owls swivel their necks. The kids were fascinated, she said.

“It’s fun because barred owls have big brown eyes,” said Crowe, adding other owls have golden or yellow eyes. “People feel more connected to them.”

• Marta Murvosh can be reached at 360-416-2149 or .