For those of you who know me, you’ve known my love for owls. For those of you who don’t know me, I have an extensive collection. I’ve collected pretty much anything I stumble across and I’ve been given many gifts over the years too from people who know my appreciation for these magnificent, wise, and beautiful creatures. I’ve been asked why by some, and some not. I was reminded just the other night of why. And I felt inspired to share my story.
Best start from the beginning. When I was a young sprout, we lived on 40 acres in the country. We had a variety of wildlife we saw on a regular basis, otters, porcupines, bears, wolves, coyotes, deer, fox, etc. That home is the basis of what has fed my soul’s passion for nature ever since. I spent so many days and some nights wandering through the woods, exploring, building forts, and playing hide and seek. My peace is in nature, it is the very thing that calms my storms and stills my mind. When we first moved up North from Andover, I was about 5 years old. At night during the summer time, I would sleep with the window open a bit to let the breeze in. And in the dead of night, aside from the sound of the crickets chirping and the rustling in the leaves, I would hear two owls talking to each other. Nearly every night, at about the same time, one sat to the left of my window, the other in the backyard. I remember laying there at night, waiting to hear their calls to each other, wondering what they were saying, and if they were family or simply enjoyed each other’s company while so many others were sleeping. They sounded so content, just happy to be. There was comfort in hearing those hoots in the quietness of the night, and on occasion I’d poke my head up out the window and catch a glimpse of one of them, sometimes both – illuminated just a bit from the moonlight, if they were close enough of course. Each season passed, and years went by, but no matter what, there remained those owls. Eventually they would go away for awhile, but they would always come back to visit.
I’ve moved a few times, but with every move, I have spotted an owl outside my window. Grey, quiet, and observant.
I have been going through a rough time right now. A damn difficult time. And a few weeks ago, I woke up from a dead sleep. I heard an owl outside my window, the same owl call as I heard so many nights as a little girl – calling out my window once again. I laid in bed, smiling, a true, happy smile. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so happy to hear one of my owls again. And the following night, he was back again, woke me up, a bit closer that night, and I can’t help but feel he was talking to me. Again, a smile on my face as I listened to him until I fell back asleep.
No matter where I have been, no matter the time that passes or obstacles I’ve had, my owl has always been there. Ever since I was little.
Everyone has their own signs, beliefs or religion. My owls reminded me to keep going and I am never alone, that they will always come back. All of those nights they spoke to each other, they were happy to just exist in our grand natural world, alone or together, sometimes present, sometimes gone. They have seen me through my life since I was 5 years old. And I am humbly reminded to choose to be happy, to be pleased to just exist and love and see the world, for my owls, like my owls. And to continue to gain wisdom and grow along the way as they have. I can’t help but feel they are my guardians, they’ve never let me down, as so many people have – my owls have never once, on those summer nights then, or the cold winter nights now.