I woke from dreamless sleep to an owl’s cries outside my bedroom window. I was in the woods on Lake Superior in October. As its calls plucked my consciousness from the void, my soul shivered. Breathing suspended. The moment crystallized. Within my bones bloomed a deep recognition.
The owl called again.
It was then I knew my friend was going to die.
(You can read about her story in the Night Workers post, right here.)
Owls have a rather polarizing reputation. Depending on where you live, your beliefs, your culture, you may revere the owl, or fear the owl. (Or in the case of some of my bird nerd friends, they will stick to enjoying owls as raptors, thank you very much.)
Owls are fascinating. Their fluffy flight feathers make them nearly silent as they stalk their prey, their luminous eyes are immobile, boosting depth perception to extremes, and they are crowned by that gloriously absurd head rotation. (But, a field mouse would then notice the beak-and the claws, the asymmetrical ears-the better to hear you with, my sweet.)
Owls are pretty cool. We loved them in the Harry Potter books and films. Pop culture has helped cast the birds into some specific niches, which has reinforced our own ideas about them.Continue reading “The Spiritual Significance of Owls”