Today I happened to notice a large bird alighting high in the old dying maple tree next to our mailbox up by the road. I got the binoculars out and found that the bird was an owl. The time of day was a little after four in the afternoon and we were being pummeled by heavy rain.
I've been reading about other peoples' weather. Spring is definitely arriving here too - you can tell by the rain - but we still have over two feet of snow on the ground. I think I'm not being clear: the weather is lousy. And yet, I like it.
I don't know much about owls. I don't know what they normally do in bad weather or if it's normal for an owl to be out at four in the afternoon. I don't know what kind of owl it was. I suppose I could google and find out. Or wikkipedia. Some new verb or other. I felt bad for that one, the owl.
It hung around for a good forty-five minutes then all of a sudden it was gone. I just missed it's departure. I didn't see where it went. So, in case it was sick and had fallen, I put my slicker and rain boots on and went outside to look for it.
I climbed up on the snowbank the plow left at the side of the road and looked around the base of the tree. No owl, no owl pellets no evidence of owl at all. I imagine food is hard to come by for owls this time of year.
I looked up into the tree, holding my hood out as best I could to keep the rain from smacking me full in the face. I couldn't see anything but leafless, rain-blackened, twisted tree branches against a cold, grey sky. And it just felt so good. It felt like where I belong. It was beautiful and I loved it.
What the hell is it with me?
2 comments:
I hope the owl was okay. I like that the situation was darkly beautiful.
Sounds like you 100% in the moment.
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