Owl Prowl

It was a brilliant, sunny Saturday  morning in 1980, and I was driving along a snow-covered country road in the   Ottawa Valley. My mood didn't match the passing scenery. Lost in thought about this's and that's and what to do about them all, I barely noticed it at first. A large white football with wings? Oh dear God, an owl! Not just any owl, a Snowy Owl. Practically floating just inches above the hood of my car, its wings steadily beating, and going the exact same speed as me! I have no idea where he came from, but I immediately felt connected and comforted.

Deep inside a childhood memory awoke of my Mother reciting, "A wise old owl sat in an oak/The more he saw the less he spoke/The less he spoke the more he heard/Now wasn't he a wise old bird?" That little nursery rhyme has stayed with me forever, and the wise old owl has been my "spark bird".  My Mom had died  the previous year, and I  believed immediately that this stunning owl, pacing me all the way down the road was a message from her. There were no words. Just peace. That road is about 3 km long, and that bird stayed above the right front part of the car the entire way 'til I had to slow and make a turn, at which point it drifted off across the field and over the horizon. I pulled over and wept.

The next siting was several years later. I had moved away, and then moved back again. And in the meantime, had discovered birding. It was another wintry day scouting out the fields and forests along winding country roads by myself. I often bird alone. It's my time to just be. This day was no different as I pulled over to take a look along an old fence line hoping to see a white oval in the distance. I rolled down the window, reached over for the binoculars on the seat beside me and turned to look at the field. And there he was! Landing on a fence post not 2 metres away! Feet first, little bit of  a shuffle and arranging his wings just so, perfect perch, and then he turned his head and met me face on. Staring, not moving. Considering. We looked at each other for about 2 minutes, me barely breathing, but breathing it all in. Then a big shrug and off he flew, directly north of me, across the field. I put the bins up to follow then, and watched in utter astonishment as he landed mid-way across the stubble, pounced on something, alit, and flew right back to the same fence post where I was parked. Now absolutely astonished, I sat and watched in wonder as he proceeded to eat the mouse he'd just caught for lunch. Slowly, surely, holding it in his claws, delicately pecking and pulling, and finally all done! Again, he turned to look at me, while I still stared. I whispered a quiet "thank-you".
He flew off then, and I drove away having just been given a gift  that I would cherish always.

It's all Hieroglyphics to Me

Hieroglyphics:  
"Hieroglyphic symbols, unlike letters in our alphabet , are used to describe what we would use a group of letters to- such as an idea or thought in a picture form. Like to describe the sun for example 

they would have a picture similar to the sun, or to describe a crocodile you would see a picture similar to a crocodile. While some of their symbols are easy to understand it took years and help from many artifacts for scientists to decode these symbols."

So saith Reference.com.  Like they're basically saying that uh hieroglyphics are like word pictures to convey an idea. 

Remember the ancient Egyptians?  They  etched their thoughts, mournful, mundane, murderous and otherwise all over the pyramids which are arguably the penultimate burial vaults on earth. In doing so, they unwittingly made Harrison Ford  and a deck of Hollywood movie moguls multi-billionaires many suns and moons later as they were inspired to create moving picture shows about lost arcs, sun gods, grocery lists and golden treasure in order to entertain us. 

IN THE MEANTIME, back to reality. 

Nature also leaves hieroglyphics  all over the earth. Within the  power of every creature is the ability to communicate, at times with intent. At times, not. 

Winter in Canada provides many opportunities to read the stories being told by fox, wolf, squirrel, mouse, ferret, raccoon, deer, mink, fisher, coyote...they are all out and about, roaming the forests, fields and farms. While they forage they write their tales of life and death  and now it is for you to decipher...

Great Grey Owl lands suddenly. Kills quickly. Leaves.

What hops along and lands on its little bum every time? (I don't know)

Squirrel? but what's the long deep cut made by? 

and what's the plunge on the right?

Steps in its own trace, drags tail. Nope. No clue here unless it's a fox?

 Ghost owl. Likely Eastern Screech. Dropping in for take out dinner.

Ah! This one I know. Winter s'quitter. Running around in loud, noisy circles.

Humans. Creating hieroglyphics.

Miss Peacock in the Conservatory with the Camera

Allen Gardens Conservatory inspires wonder and not a little mystery. On a chilly winter's day, it looks quite fragile. But on the contrary, there is strength in structure, especially when form follows function. In this case,

a very elaborate place to keep plants.

Very nice plants too as it turns out.

If it's an oasis you crave, look no further.

A bit of tropical air, with a hint of delicious spice?

The air is dripping with nectar as the plants begin to blossom...

 

Their beauty draws you in, and holds you, holds you...

And just as you begin to think, "I'm satisfied", you turn the corner.

...and you are consumed by green. This is what verdant means.

This is why Leda loved to bathe in the Eurotas River, where Zeus saw her and metamorphasized into a white swan so she would love and protect him.

Their union produced Helen of Troy.

This is a place of magic and mystery and golden scaled fish. 

A place where winter can disappear, and you didn't have a clue that it could.