I thrive in pastures and woods while the scents of soil and pine surround me. Blue jays, cardinals, mourning doves, crows, chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, and tufted titmice - a motley congregation - share their woodland territories with my husband and me. They punctuate the air with a chorus of chirps and cheer as they fly about the business of winter survival: foraging for seeds and insects beneath tree bark and on evergreen branches. A bird-feeding station in our yard supplements their rations with suet and sunflower seeds. In late afternoon, I pause and admire the birds' diligence for finding food before the sun sets and they seek shelter in a tree cavity for the long night ahead.
At dusk, I often hear two barred owls calling to each other somewhere in our woodlot: "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you - all?" Sometimes close. Sometimes far away in various corners of the neighborhood. Always, my longing to see one face to beak. The odds remain slim. I'm an early-to-bed sleeper due to my farm upbringing. The owl is nocturnal and preys on rodents. I'm snoring when the owl begins its hunt.
Recently, I glanced out a window and saw a female barred owl (I assumed female because females are larger than males) perched in a gray birch tree mere feet away from the house. This gift, this unexpected manna from heaven, charmed me. Like a child binging on Halloween candy, I feasted on the extraordinary in the ordinary: the owl's calm presence, facial disk, large brown forward-facing eyes, hooked bill and talons, barred feathers across her breast, and streaked feathers lengthwise down her belly. She's not a bold dresser, but she doesn't need to strut her stuff back and forth along a branch. Her fearlessness is the only fashion statement she needs to make.
After several minutes (not long enough!) the owl flew away between the pines, maples, and birches. The unexpected sighting of a fellow creature of blood and bone nourished my spirit. Winter is harsh, cold, and often cruel. The pleasure of observing an owl - a bucket list number - brightened the day into one of warm possibility. People tramp hither and yon in search of the holy. This morning holy found me.
