Lilly and I are out the door in the dark for our walks most mornings lately. With our reflective gear and blue lights, we move along in this dark world hearing the deer, squirrels, and birds rather than seeing them. We walk in the ever growing light of dawn and I am discovering how powerful this is as a way to stay connected to the light at this time of year. The owls, raptors of the dark, have been very strong allies for me at this time. I hear owls quite frequently and I am honored to hear such a variety: screech, barred (occasionally), great horned, and even the northern saw-whet.
Seven weeks ago, Lilly and I set out for our morning walk in the twilight. On silent wings, suddenly an owl swooshed into the hollowed out dead tree less than 15 feet in front of us. We stopped, Lilly just as aware of this bird as I was. In one of those out of time stretches, I gazed into the eyes of a northern saw-whet owl. She then flew about 15 feet away to alight on a branch and continue our meeting. I felt the need to move on by the dead tree since the owl wanted to get back into it, so we walked on. Our meeting was no more than a minute but felt like 10.
The trunk of this dead tree is right next to the pavement of the road. In the weeks since our meeting, I have kept an eye and ear out for the owl in this spot. Only one other time did I hear a saw-whet near this tree. I was concerned that this tree, which clearly fits the picture of an ideal saw-whet roost, is so close to the road. So as I trooped past each day with Lilly, I often spoke to the owl and wished her well and perhaps a new home farther from a road. I noticed nothing of note until last week, when Lilly and I set out in the dark and came upon a body in the road by the dead tree. Before we were close enough to see feathers, I knew this was our owl friend. She had been hit by a car. I moved her body from the road and just stared in awe at this beautiful creature. Just as there are moments where time stretches out and seems to slow down while you are still aware that it is flying by, there are times when size of something is large and small at the same time. This owl was small, about the length of my hand, but seemed huge. With a sharply curved beak, big eyes, long feet and talons, russet red and buff feathers, this owl’s body stopped my brain and shifted me into a state of wonder and allowed me to just be. I was no longer aware of my human body; I was one with the All. I was both human and owl and not human and not owl. I was not I.
This gift from the saw-whet owl feels extra potent coming so close to the winter solstice. Owls, as birds of the dark, often guide us to new insights on aspects of self hidden in the dark. I am finding new ways of relating to and engaging with the dark both inside and outside of myself. And I am excited and ready to celebrate this magical turning point from growing dark to growing light.
I wish you all a Happy Winter Solstice.
P.S. Don't forget the $20 Email Card Readings through the end of the year!