photography – The Light Behind the Story

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.

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.

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.

Start on a cloudless morning when the sky is the color of Truth, it provides an ideal backdrop. When one is constantly stretching the neck open, you can’t ask for a better way to welcome in the energy of blue.

Aside from the obvious: paint, brush and a wet cloth to catch the drips, you’ll want to bring along a the phone so you don’t trip down the stairs, forgetting to wipe your hands on the wet cloth along the way, only to have the answering machine beat you to the last ring. A water bottled with a nice capped lid is also handy to avoid that unquenchable thirst for unpainted water. Then there’s the camera. Instead of photographing your progress, why not use it as an excuse to peer out those open windows that are keep you from passing out from the VOCs you’re inhaling in your open mouth (Which brings me to another important tip – the tilted head has a natural tendency to cause the mouth to hang open. This is no good. Remember, keep it clamped shut, least you want to drink the VOCs too. If you need to breathe, use your nose!).

Who wouldn’t want to rest in these branches

They were kissing on the patio before I brought the camera up – if I had only been prepared from the start!

Couldn’t smell it from my cathedral, but it sure is pretty

Can you see how wonderfully distracting this can become

Do bring along a companion or two, they’ll keep you company and cheer you along (in some cases telepathically) when the fire burning the back of your neck makes you want to throw the brush out the window and jump into the welcoming hot tub below – don’t do it! It’s only a delusion of your chemically-influenced mind. The fall to the dirt below will likely break your neck and that’s not the ending you want.

Remember to listen to your bladder and your stomach. This will save you from having an unfortunate accident before your masterpiece is completed. Speaking of masterpieces, only one of us (at the most) has been lucky enough to be reincarnate as Michelangelo (not me!), it behooves the rest of us to remember that a couple drips and lumps along the way add character. At least that’s the story I’m going with, although I did discover a day late this handy tip: When you’re painting a 9 1/2 foot ceiling and happen to add one of those unfortunate lumps of dried paint to your roller, the edge of the roller provides a nice scraper. I now understand the logic behind popcorn ceilings, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that crystal dust will do the trick!