I came home from Bluesfest last night (well actually, only a few hours ago) too excited to go to bed straight away – another fabulous night of music and dancing, and feeling high on life. Ever since my wake-up call, I have never taken a single day for granted, and today has been one of those sublime sunshiny days and starlit evenings where I am grateful for every breath.
The moon was high and full, and as our bus wound its way down our heavily wooded country lane I began to feel their energy.
Owls.
There is something magical and a little spooky about owls. And lately they have been gravitating to our farm in larger and larger numbers.
One called to me as I alighted from the vehicle. As everyone else went inside I stood in the brisk night air, and communed with my nocturnal visitor a moment.
Another flew in and sat in the tree above me – two Masked Owls blinking lazily.
Behind me in the trees I could hear more owls, shrieking, whistling, calling…
One whisked past me, low to the ground, and alighted on the lawn. This one was a Powerful Owl – a huge and majestic specimen.
I made a cup of tea and sat out on the verandah, feeling the mist off the ocean slowly settling in the valley around me and smudging all the stars into softer shapes in the sky.
A Tawny Frogmoth came and sat on the clothesline and was soon joined by two more. I felt as if I were smack bang in the middle of a bizarre Potter-esque Owl Convention.
This morning the Powerful Owl was still sitting in the teak tree at my front door. He watched me carefully as I did my morning qi gong and yoga stretches. It felt like he was waiting for me somehow.
When I went to go back inside I found a feather at my feet – a little piece of owl magic. I’ll weave it into a Dream Catcher to hang above my bed. Then perhaps my dreams can tell me why the owls are here, and what messages they have for me. I sense great change, great opening, and it makes me wonder what will come next for me. I feel like I am being called, but to what? I trust all shall be revealed in time.
