respite from the cares of the world…
peace that passes understanding
Nearing the end of their stay in our box, the owlets are climbing with great care to the top.
Against the backdrop of other winged creatures,
flexing their wings,
retreating to security inside
or flying into the night.
I am reminded of a quote given to each of our adult children with a copy of the family history:
‘Every child deserves two things: one is roots, the other is wings.’
We have provided roots – a barn owl box made of 100 year old barn wood – and their parents have given them wings – literally and figuratively! God speed little ones!
a tight ball of unobservable potential
opening to the opulence of petaled glory
then: fading, fragile, feminine
shedding that which is no longer useful
paring down to the essence
retaining elegance; beauty of a different sort
dedicated to those women of a certain season of life who walk this path with elegance and grace
Sitting in the yard as the sky transitions from twilight into night – the bridge of conversation and quiet watching between us – we never cease to be amazed as an owl bridges the space from house to oak, then from oak to owl box.
Mountains in front of us bridge the horizon from east to west.
Watching, we see the North Star directly above the owl box, the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia bleeding their reflected light into the darkening sky; stars bridging the sky as far as we can see.
Blinking lights – white, green, red – reveal the path of planes as they bridge the spaces between the stars, seeming to knit them together with invisible thread to hold the universe.
A bridge – a transition – between the seen and unseen = faith.