Category Archives: wisdom

When Owls Speak

Last night, I was in my office when Kitty (my dog) started barking from the living room. I told her to hush. When the barking/growl changed tone I went to investigate and walked in on my dog in a staring match with a Barred Owl!

The owl and the dog were staring right at each other through the living room window.

I froze, stopped breathing, just like I always do when I see an owl. My body – breath, heart, hairs on my skin – seems to know it’s in the presence of something from another realm – a benevolent, majestic, otherworldly creature.

Kitty knows too, maybe, because we have turkeys looking in our windows every darn day and she’s never once barked or paid them any attention.

An owl though – that’s something! And looking into our house, looking right at us!

A guardian, my friend Heidi called it when I told her.

Friends, maybe if an owl sat looking into your window (for a good 5 minutes or so) you would think it was cool, but that’s it.

When an owl sits looking at me, I hear a message:

Yes, madmen and wars seem to be consuming the earth.

But remember that the ancestors, angels, spirit guides have seen madmen come and go. For ages, we’ve had to welcome innocent children killed by bombs, bullets and bayonets into our midst.

We see you humans spending your short lives doing all manner of foolish, desperate, cruel things. We see you do beautiful things too.

Sometimes we shake our heads, sometimes we glow with warmth and sometimes you break our hearts.

You humans are never alone.

There’s a vast web of loved ones loving you and caring about you from both sides of the veil.

Be a part of that love as much as possible while you are on earth. Then join us here on the other side when your time comes.

The view from inside my window.
This was when it flew to the next tree over and I stepped outside.

Larger than Pandemics

Yesterday, I had the pandemic blues.

Then around midnight, I was getting ready for bed when I heard the owls hooting.

They’ve been coming by this creek house for about a year now, the hooting loud even through airport proof windows. I finished what I was doing, taking my time.

Then I stepped outside onto the driveway, hearing hoots out front on the creek when suddenly something swept over me from behind, from the backyard. It swept over me and towards the creek (towards its owl lover, perhaps?) and in the rays of the street light I saw a feather drifting down, landing in the darkness, a small, slight feather I quickly retrieved.

After that, I stood on the front lawn for about half an hour, the blues long gone, the 2 owls flying to trees on either side of me, sometimes talking to each other, sometimes looking at me in silence.

Pandemic blues seemed all the smaller, more fleeting as I stood on the grass, in the dark, positioned between endless cycles, filling with ageless knowing, a part of infinite wisdom.

From The Wheel of Change Tarot by Alexandra Genetti