On a midnight walk tonight, I heard a great horned owl. I stopped and listened for a repeat. Silence.
"I'm waiting," I said, not expecting a reply. But I got one -- almost immediately. "Who Who Who Who Who."
Above silhouettes of trees, stars glimmered suddenly - silver, gold, platinum -- as if the hoot of the owl had animated the night. "Who Who Who Who" it came again, filling me.
I had been walking to clear myself of a difficult two months, filled with inordinate challenges. But I didn't know how much I needed this special gift until I heard the owl.
There are times when some part of nature can lift us beyond ourselves. When I slept outside in the wilderness and woke chilled to the bone, the sight of a sliver of moon could reach beyond the cold and lift me outside of pain. (Reprint of my 4/5/20 post)
"I'm waiting," I said, not expecting a reply. But I got one -- almost immediately. "Who Who Who Who Who."
Above silhouettes of trees, stars glimmered suddenly - silver, gold, platinum -- as if the hoot of the owl had animated the night. "Who Who Who Who" it came again, filling me.
I had been walking to clear myself of a difficult two months, filled with inordinate challenges. But I didn't know how much I needed this special gift until I heard the owl.
There are times when some part of nature can lift us beyond ourselves. When I slept outside in the wilderness and woke chilled to the bone, the sight of a sliver of moon could reach beyond the cold and lift me outside of pain. (Reprint of my 4/5/20 post)
