Now This Owl

2024.10.08

Good morning that wonderful way.

A good night's sleep.

Sometimes you get them.
Sometimes they last long.
Sometimes it's a quick nap in the afternoon.

It must be the dreams.

Unfinished business business.

There's a certain way to go about life, a certain way to heal.

I wish there was a warm lake to wash in this morning.

Of all the things to honestly want.

Strange. Ancestral water.
Water you don't have to pull a dial or flip a switch to flow.

Woodsy wonderful.

An owl flew by last night. About 8 feet high.

Abe chased it growling, nose up, eyes on its belly and talons full of of whatever's been living under the shed.

The hound's been furrowing it out all year. He didn't bark at the bird, perhaps it was professional courtesy.

Did you know owls don't fly? They swim through the night sky.
Flickers like static through an old television set,
Set sail through the dark.

A Great Horned Owl.

Nothing else that big, at that hour.
Eagles don't hunt that late.

It was too dark for anything but purple.

Owls rarely make noise. A who-who now and then to signal morning is close.

Been sometime with birds and me.

That Great Blue Heron years ago to signal Covid's start.

Now this owl.

Full circle stuff of dreams stuff.

There was nothing arbitrary about it.

So close and in my line of sight, doing Abe an I a favor. Less frustration of daily barks for Abe, and a hello from the night for me.

A punctuation mark to these years of one long nightmare.

Nature pays more attention to your life than you give Her credit for.

Not magic, method. She's looking out for Herself by looking out for you.

Her words from birds for me.

Going to sit in the quiet brought by a long night of overdue and finally finished dreams; enjoy my return, and pack for the next adventure.

Take care and have a better day, (and maybe a nap).