Chipper was running hysterically around the house we put up for him in the backyard. He has his winter's food stashed away there. And when I noticed why he was frantic I sat in astonishment. There, upon a loose post of our smoke house, sat an owl. A tiny little owl with bright yellow eyes and brown and white feathers. I've had my fair share of pet birds and knew by the way he was sitting that he had just fulfilled himself on the voles that scurry around our house. He was tired, most certainly. His feathers were fluffed up, his head relaxed into his shoulders, and one leg tucked up into his tummy. He was calm and didn't quite mind the gazing eyes of my darling and I through an open window. They say the presence of an owl means important new knowledge is headed your way. I wonder what wonderful learning awaits me? Nevertheless I like this little owl's company. I hope he stays around for a while. For he's quite a treat- perhaps not for Chipper (who is scared the owl shall take his food for his own)- but for myself.
