Two Owls

Two owls: 

predawn walks, and with the absence of light it's the sounds that I note most, first the insects, and then as I near the pond and streams there's the bullfrogs croaking in their hoarse song. It's not yet time for the songbirds, I'm too early even for the dawn chorus to begin their warm notes. Sometimes those first few tentative calls escape my notice and it's only later that I realize I'm now hearing their song, so easily do they begin to play and seamless slide into my conscious mind. But yesterday morning was devoted to two owls in discourse, trading their hoots across come unmeasured distance and drawing me towards them as well, a hopeless task of tracking by sound, never quite being able to pinpoint their location. 

yet I tried, and found myself ever nearer...

captivated by their call. 

I truly love the mystery of these early mornings - how a fox will suddenly appear, emerging from a thickets edge, giving me a curious glance before seamlessly vanishing back into the woods, so easy in her motions that I barely notice that's she now gone. My two owls trading their hoots is another reminder of why I'm up so early, drawn into the experience of their call, approaching them completely on their terms, and just trying to understand their language without translation into words. It's enough that my body responds, my soul stirs in it's own understanding, not needing a direct translation. 

being  simply urged towards them...

captivated.

drawn. 

ever deeper into mystery. 

~

Peace, Eric