An Owl On The Roof

(Please click on the title for a reading aloud by the author.)

Last night the Great Horned Owl’s voice filled the room. It was sitting on the parapet just above the open bedroom window. “hoo-hoo-Hoo.” I had been asleep and for a moment the call fit into my dream world, and then waking… lost in shifting realities, “hoo-hoo-Hoo.” Only the brightest stars were able to compete with the full moon. Thin drawn clouds, their edges glowing silver blue slipped across the sky. Another owl some greater distance away answered the call. “I am Here.” Is this what they say?

The pair visits from time to time, but usually they are far from the house. The calling is faint, a subtle but significant addition to the sounds of night. When one is close the call is full and rich. It becomes the focus in my dark sightlessness.

Owls are silent when they fly. On rare occasion I have seen one’s silhouette against a dusk sky, they sit in the tops of the junipers. Watching the bird take flight, as soon as it dips below the horizon with darkness of landscape surrounding it, it vanishes. Silent and gone.

So I lay still in bed and listen and when it is quiet, wonder and fill with anticipation. Is it there or has it flown away? And then another call. Then it is silent, and silent, and I do not know, and I drift away to sleep.

Gordon Bunker