The Owl

As I drove down the dark, wooded street I saw something in the middle of the road. Just sitting there. An owl!

In the split second of surprise before I swerved around it, the beams from my headlights lit up its beautiful face and huge golden eyes. Eyes that looked straight at me.  It must’ve been guarding dinner because it didn’t budge.

Almost after the fact, I took in the dark and light speckles of its head and shoulders and the huge pale disks surrounding those penetrating yellow eyes.

It all happened in less than a couple seconds, but in that compressed time-outside-of-time  was packed a whole lot of magic.


About boomergirl47

Retired from the University of South Florida. Love reading, writing, hiking, nature, music, birding, puttering around the house and yard.
This entry was posted in beauty, birds, emotions, human interest, nature, pets, poetry, psychology, religion, science, spirituality. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Owl

  1. Nicely done–the magic owl, and you’re absolutely right. Once when I gave a lecture in a large theatre –300 or so students–there was an owl perched on the rafters at the front. It was mostly white with brown wings, no idea how it got there, don’t think I’ve ever seen another around Sydney, but it didn’t matter what I said or wrote or showed, everyone was glued to the owl. It only had to stretch a wing and three hundred pairs of eyes would look upward. The lecture was a complete waste of time. 🙂


  2. boomergirl47 says:

    Funny story. An owl would be a hard thing to compete with!

    The lady whose home I was leaving when I saw it (facilitator of my meditation group), said it’s their neighborhood owl and she loves hearing its call. Coincidentally, her name is Camille, so I sent her your poem, “The Harvest.” I think she’ll love it as much as I do.

    Liked by 1 person

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