My
fascination with owls began while living on the ranch.
Each night I was lulled into a dreamless sleep by the soft song of the crickets
chirp, interrupted by the occasional hoot of an owl.
While out hunting
quail one day long ago, I came into a heavily wooded area
and was enjoying the tranquility.
Like a slow motion bolt of lightning there appeared a huge form
flying out of a magnificent oak tree.
It struck terror in my heart as the beat of it's wings stirred the air
with a deafening roar in the stillness of the forest.
She hit my head and flew back into the gnarled branch of the Oak tree
with strands of my hair in her claws.
She swooped down time after time...over and over again ...
sharp talons extended...bloody harm intended.
It was a mama
owl protecting her nest?
What other reason for her assault upon a human being?
I retreated to the
safety of the open rolling meadow
to allow her anger and my fear to dissipate into the radiant sunshine.
I was in awe of this
beautiful creature of God.
I remember it as a unique spiritual experience as emotions of
love, respect and admiration and wonder flooded my soul.
The ranch was
lovingly called my "Funny Farm" because I took in
and hand raised many misfortunate animals...
Ducks with upside down wings who could not fly,
a dwarf calf, wild baby bunnies who lost their mother, a red tailed hawk...a fawn...
and once...just once ...I nursed an injured owl back to health.
His wing had mended.
Joyful was the day of his release back into the wilds.
But this is
not the end of my love affair with the owl.
My Auntie Jean was
the youngest of my Mom's five sisters
and everyone said that I looked just like her.
I idolized my Auntie Jean. She was so vivacious.
She died at a young age from cancer.
Shortly before she died she gave me one of her owls
from her small collection.
Her gift touched me deeply.
She gave me a cherished piece of herself that day as I knelt at her
bedside.
These events shaped
my love of the Wise Ole Owl
and I began my collection.
The final and
deepest connection with the owl is my love of the late nights.
It is in the stillness of darkness that I search for my own truths.
I feel the presence of one of my loyal night's companions.
I speak with the spirit of the owl and in hovering silence I hear...
Whoo...Whoo...Whoo?
And so the love
affair continues into the depth of darkness
as I continue to search ...to seek ...to know...
Lindy Jo Jones
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