Tag: birds

When the Bird of Night Bookends Your Day #barredowl

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Reflections22 Comments

It was not yet 7:00am in the morning, I had reached over to grasp the teapot, about to fill it with water to brew a cup of chaga, when I looked out my kitchen window and saw the owl staring back at me. It was perched on the lowest branch of the hemlock just beyond the far side of the pool, a couple of yards away. An “Oh my god,” or something close to it, escaped from my mouth is I put down the teapot and grabbed the phone.

My morning visitor, a barred owl on a hemlock

There was no need to panic. The owl had no plans elsewhere, in fact, it was quite content to spend its morning in the copse of hemlocks, peering into my soul window, and occasionally onto the forest floor for a sign of breakfast. Or would that be dinnertime of an owl?

The barred owl casually hunting for a meal

One thing was certain, I had not been expecting a visitor of night to show up at my backdoor that morning. And, for a bird known for its eerie call that sounds an awful lot like “Whooo Looks for Yooouu?” my visitor never made a peep.

The barred owl was silent during the entire visit

For more than an hour, the owl hunted silently the small woods in my backyard, mostly staying in the same hemlock, and quite frequently peering into my soul window directly through into my eyes.

It was a bit unsettling, but felt like a gift

If you have never stared eye-to-eye with an owl, perhaps you will get a feel for what it’s like through these photos. There is a reason why owls have, throughout time, been associated with darkness and magic. A reason why they are associated with wisdom, secrets, and symbols of what is hidden and perhaps needs to be revealed. Every bit of lore associated with owls becomes unsettlingly clear when you stare eye-to-eye with one.

And then it was back

Since my morning visitor (who appeared again at the end of the afternoon), was a barred owl, I found myself starring into eyes blacker than night set inside a tawny white face with a yellow beak. It’s rather like looking into a sky devoid of stars (planets, satellites, and moons), but that doesn’t exist. Hence the feeling of otherworldliness. It is no wonder owls are associated with magic and mystery.

So much magic wrapped into one form

When I looked at my visitor, I saw my dear and departed friend and mentor Sue with her cloak of owl feathers, I saw my maternal grandmother, and I saw Athena encased inside one magnificent form that more than once I felt like hugging.

My visitor definitely had a huggable quality

Let’s face it, owls are rather adorable, albeit imposing figures. I have a tendency to want to hug pretty much any form of wildlife I see and it takes a fair bit of willpower not to. Instead, I settle with filming and taking photos, when possible. Yesterday brought two opportunities to do so, as the owl appeared again late in the afternoon, just after I had settled onto the sofa to work on my manuscript. It was nearly 4:40pm, and after typing a few lines in book three of the Warriors of Light series, in which perhaps not coincidentally, the barred owl makes a reappearance as an important messenger, my friend reappeared. This time, outside my living room window. Like déjà vu I looked out the window to find the same barred owl starring directly into my soul. Forget the crossout, I was now convinced.

A messenger from beyond the day

A long moment in Nature’s peace amid this orchestrated madness

On By Alethea KehasIn Reflections39 Comments
Even amid the most chaotic times, nature offers us peace and balance
The Buddha in the herb garden beside my front steps

Madness has taken over the country I call home, but there is peace to be found amid the chaos. Humans are not strangers to chaos because we are most often its creators. Nature inherently seeks balance, but human nature is its primary upsetter. How utterly ironic that our highly evolved brains push us towards disharmony all in the name of supremacy. This quest for supremacy churning out cycle after cycle of battles for dominion over ourselves, other species, and our planet, which is not just ours.

Yet, She endures.

In the soft hours of mourning I pause with her presence. The cat I am far too attached to takes advantage of the moment to cocoon herself between my thighs and belly as I watch a small orange slug, that is not really orange, but more the colors of an oak leaf transitioning from summer to fall. Its glistening body is horned like a young goat and in this pause I find its beauty. Curled into a half-heart around the edge of an oregano leaf in this garden of herbs and wild weeds that seek only coexistence, the slug defies gravity. Or seems to.

Beyond this small patch of earth that sits below my front step, the male cardinal that built a nest in the lilac sits on a branch of a maple singing his sermon of the day. How glorious he is to behold with his coat of red and his beard of black haloed in summer’s green. Yet I know he is more than that. I have held the fallen feather of his kin up to the sun and witnessed the full spectrum of light. But, he knows this too. Listen to him.

His mate is in the peach tree is gathering a meal. Equally lovely in her understated tawny hues she wears red on her beak, the crest of her head, and threads its hues through her tail and feathers as a reminder of balance. She is earth, fire, air, and always water. Water because it is a feminine element. And each of her feathers holds the same spectrum of light as his.

The cardinals are not the only birds singing to the mourning and gathering food. The phoebes who nest under the peaked roof of my unused front door are busy doing the same. Dedicated to the tasks of the day they provide a chorus with the finches, nuthatches, and chickadees. Circling the clouds, the resident falcons calls out for breakfast and I take in the scent of the ocean from the sea roses before I head inside for mine.

Who I will miss the most after I move #change

On By Alethea KehasIn Reflections20 Comments
The barred owl in my apple tree this past fall

I think perhaps I will miss the old apple tree more than anything else. This first friend whose woody trunk I clung too in times of sorrow and joy. If I move before spring, I will miss her flush of blooms spread over the patio like a canopy of tattered lace. That play with the sun before her petals drop like spring snow. Ephemeral wings blown away with a wind that brings the budding orbs of summer. I will miss her sweet apples, stunted by shade and the organic burrowing of worms.

Sitting in an old farmhouse, someday I will recall the gathering. Full bowls brought into the kitchen to be parsed and boiled with cinnamon. Browned pulp squeezed into the food mill then left to cool. I will think of the small hands before they waved goodbye to childhood, scooping the sauce of her bounty into eager mouths. No need for sugar. What a gift to be fed by her love.

And I will miss the birds she held through birth, and those that searched her giving body for substance through the seasons. Those downy heads of woodpeckers drumming winter’s rhythm. The inverted gaze of the nuthatch seeking the downward hunt. Robins nesting in her leafy boughs just beyond the reach of the cat. Trusting. I cannot forget the orioles who always chose her showiest days to flash their orange and black bodies like forbidden royalty before her petals lay her bare each summer. But then, I shall recall the barred owl peaking through the gray day of my window from her steady arm to tell me , “It is time go and build your dreams.”

Yes, I believe it is the one who bore this life with me here, who I will miss the most when I leave.

Luminous Beings We Are

On By Alethea KehasIn Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, ReflectionsLeave a comment

My daughter, Ava, came into this world remembering. I hope she never forgets. Between the ages of 1 and 2 she fell in love with birds, remembering her wings. It was a game we played, especially her “Gampy.” Two souls on very different levels, teaching each other. She would sit on his lap in front of his computer screen, while he pulled up the songs of the birds she was learning. “What’s this one,” he would ask, and she’d identify the voice. For her second birthday I gave her a “Bird Party,” and she dazzled the guests with her ability to identify and name.  It seemed fated that my husband and I had chosen the name “Ava” for our daughter.  A being of the earth, but not bound to it.

When she was two, Ava traded in her passion for birds for a new love. Yoda. My husband had begun showing her nonviolent scenes from “Star Wars,” and Ava developed a crush on the adorably ugly green being. Again, we all jumped on board. I found her a Yoda costume for Halloween, my parents a back-pack for her birthday. When she turned 3 we urged the party-goers to hit the dark side of the pinata, which bore the taped figure of Darth Vader, to release the prizes held within.

As with the birds, I found my young daughter’s natural attraction to the essence of her existence fascinating and beautiful. Today, my wish is that each of you be reminded of what “Luminous beings we are.” – Yoda