Here’s what it’s like to work at National Geographic. On Friday afternoon, several colleagues and I did something rare for a group of working adults on the clock in Washington, D.C.: We took a field trip. An elusive snowy owl had been spotted a few blocks from headquarters, perched—in what must be some sort of metaphor that eludes me—on a façade of the Washington Post building.

In a former life as a political reporter, I used to wear a suit every day, shuttling between the dry cleaners and my office to prepare for the next wonky press briefing. If anyone were to ask how my current job is different, I’d tell them that the snowy owl is a pretty good example.