Photo by Susanne Jutzeler, suju-foto on Pexels.com
For Day 1 of the June Open Write, Dr. Sarah J. Donovan of Stillwater, Oklahoma invites us to write poetry using the mentor poet June Jordan’s poetry. You can read Sarah’s full prompt here.
Now This
these nights they are hormonal hot flash hell ~ flapping bedbirds fluffing sheets sleeplessly in all the heat and rumble of the dark
these nightmares they rage in ~ nocturnal carnage at the screaming speed of melatonin on the yellow eyes of a Great Horned Owl in a trembling tree hollow
these scarecrows they lurk now in apocalyptic meadows where as children we found peaceful slumber we called sweet dreams ~ all those sugarplums that once danced in our heads
Last night was another fabulous night observing one of our resident Great Horned Owls on the Johnson Funny Farm here in rural middle Georgia. Usually the pair arrives together, but last night it was one lone owl putting on a show. I have been slipping out to the front porch around 7:45 each evening, armed with my camera, binoculars, and eBird app on my phone. I sit on one of the loveseats on the porch, as still and quiet as I can be. The owls fly in from the west side of the farm and hang out right at the top of the driveway in the clearing. They swoop from ground to tree, then down from tree to ground, looking for prey.
This morning, I’m sharing these photos I took last night. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed taking them. Be sure to zoom in on the one with the flag – the yellow eyes are mesmerizing!
They say when you find an owl feather or see an owl, its spirit is trying to communicate something to you. In the past week and a half, I’ve seen an owl twice, found one feather, and heard an owl four times. I’m speaking of one of the Great Horned Owls who lives here on the Johnson Funny Farm.
I’m wondering about the message. How does an owl message recipient know what the message is that the owl is trying to communicate? Are there owl message interpreters out there?
What does it mean to see one in a tree, then on the ground, then find a feather?
My late mother’s bird of choice for saying hello from time to time is a hawk. Generally, she’s on a wire by the road checking to see if I’m wearing my seatbelt and warning me to slow down. Sometimes she appears when something’s heavy on my mind, as if to let me know I’m thinking in the right direction.
My husband suggested that perhaps the way the owl appears has a bearing on the message. Turns out, he’s right. Overhead, they symbolize escape from a dangerous situation. In a tree, they symbolize wisdom in a situation. There is also significance according to the type of owl it is, according to the internet. A Great Horned Owl represents a deep connection with the spirit realm and brings support and peace. The internet says we have to pay attention to what happens immediately after we see the owl. If something good happens, the sighting was favorable, but if something bad happens, then more unfortunate events may unfold.
Both times I saw the owl, it was in the evening hours before sunset, followed by regularity. Normalcy. Everyday things like finishing coffee and reading on in my book. There wasn’t anything necessarily good or bad that followed the sightings – just carrying on. Hearing an owl often means some unfortunate mishap may happen to someone in the family, according to another web page. I have heard these owls for the past 3 years, so I don’t believe that their hooting is out of the ordinary – – it just means I happen to live in the middle of a pine forest, where I share their space and overhear their conversations.
Greeks believed that hearing an owl’s hooting was a good omen and symbol of wealth and fortune, reminding us to look deep within ourselves to identify anything negative that hinders our progress. Many cultures believe that owls appear in times of upcoming unfortunate events such as pandemics, plagues on the land, and impending natural disasters. Native Americans believe they are prophets of unfortunate events. I think of a movie I once saw where the maid hears the owl in the morning and by noon, someone in the household has gone to be with the Lord.
There is one other possibility, though, perhaps a stronger one. The internet assures me that aside from the lone appearance of an owl, the continued sightings of owls in any form – books, images, real life sightings – mean that owls are your spirit animal, and they are guiding you through a new life chapter, assuring you that everything is going to be okay. Their continued presence means that you aren’t alone, and that someone is watching over you.
I’m stepping out into this day with the assurance that my spirit animal is watching, leading me, guiding my steps. I wouldn’t put it past my mother to up the ante on the hawk and send an owl to get my attention in a way I’d give a hawk a passing glance and keep going.
My eyes are open, and I will continue to watch for these owls and see what message they are bringing my way.
For weeks, I’ve been watching and waiting for the figs to ripen, and almost overnight the first wave is ready for the picking. I saw the purple-brown fruits last evening and ran inside to fetch a plastic bowl and summoned my husband to bring his long arms and reach the branches down for me so that I could pick them. Together, we got what we could reach. It was too late to fire up the tractor, though. Usually, he raises me up in the bucket so that I can pick from the tip-top of the tree. That’ll happen after work today.
For now, we have our first bowl full, and they are plump and heavy.
But that’s not all that happened yesterday.
I finally caught a glimpse a bird I’ve been hoping to see for the past few years. Up until yesterday, I had only heard them. They live here on this farm, and I hear them in the wee hours of the morning, when it’s still dark. Ironically, I’d conceded our long game of hide and seek in yesterday morning’s post and declared them the winners. It’s as if one of these birds actually read my blog and decided to show a little mercy.
I was in the reading room that overlooks the butterfly garden. From the window that faces southward, I saw a stirring in the trees. A large stirring – – really an extra-large stirring.
Surely not, I thought.
It wasn’t dark. Just a couple of minutes before 8 p.m. on the nose.
It couldn’t be, I told myself.
I ran for my binoculars and searched the dense tree line for the bird, hoping it was still there when I returned.
I turned the knobs to focus and zoomed in as close as I could get.
Sure enough, just as I’d thought.
There it was, sitting on a pine branch, facing the house.
I could barely contain my excitement, yelling for my husband to come quickly, but not yelling loudly enough to scare off my buddy. I handed off my binoculars to him, and counted back the trees, pointed to the limb and actually used fractions to direct him 2/3 of the way up the Loblolly Pine to the Great Horned Owl grasping the branch with both feet.
We stood in awe, watching this great nocturnal bird of prey turn his head all around, watching the ground below for movement, like the embodiment of a Mary Oliver poem with wings.
It was fantastic to see. I still have shivers just thinking about the magnificent stature of this amazing creature and its commanding but camouflaged and silent presence.
After a few moments, he dove to the ground in pursuit of something he’d spotted, and just like that he vanished into the woods to feast on his catch.
And I’m burning with owl fever now, wishing desperately that he had a little camera attached to him like a policeman wears a bodycam, so I could have his night vision and see where all he goes and what he does. I’d have to hide my eyes when it came time for him to kill the bunnies and field mice and other critters, but I’d lose sleep for weeks just watching how he lives his days and nights.
Today was a treasure – ripe figs and Great Horned Owls. Life doesn’t get much more exciting.
Common Threads 