Mid January when daylight is compressed to a wedge of silver between charcoal dawn and the twilight of late afternoon. It was the third anniversary of my mother’s death and I was trying to walk off my gloom before the children finished school. Even the two dogs seemed depressed, padding along silently – no pulling or wayward sniffing. As I approached the gate to the house I saw a white shape from the corner of my eye drifting along. I thought it was a carrier bag caught in the nettles, but when I turned to pick it up I saw a barn owl. It flew slowly in front of me only a few feet above the ground gleaming in the gathering dusk. I followed its ghostly light. It didn’t seem alarmed by the dogs or by my presence. Then it settled on a fence post hunched like a shawl of leaves. Slowly it turned its head towards me. I shall never forget that heart-shaped face and the look from those fathomless eyes. Every year on 15th January I think about that owl.
Track Valley Hse

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s