Wise Being of the Night

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The night envelops me like soft snow over a tree branch.

I become invisible to the two-legged creatures –

That’s why I choose to “be” only during the night.

 

As the large boxes close down, lights grow dim,

noises diminish and finally,

     finally,

          silence closes in.

 

owl, poem, poetry, photography

Photo by Cheryl Crotty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then I appear from my hiding spot in the hole of the big tree.

First, I just walk sideways out onto the branch.

I listen to the gentle animals’ sounds –

       the squirrels rustling in their bed of leaves and branches

       the birds nestling in their own feathery down

       the trees sighing with contentment.

 

I hoot my aliveness and raise my wings to the air and

the wind and the sky of darkness.

I hear an echoing hoo-hoo and swoop toward the sound.

owl, mother and baby owl, poetry

Photo by Cheryl Crotty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My love hoots for me.

 

I drop a morsel of mouse to her and fly on to another bough

surveying the world as I see it –

       dark, mysterious, filmy velvet cloak of life.

 

My orange eyes blink as I swivel my head to the back.

 

I own this world of dark.

 

I am the wise being of the night.

owl poem, owl, poetry

Photo by Cheryl Crotty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wrote this poem on a summer evening, with the hoot of the owl outside my window. Later, I ‘happened’ upon Cheryl’s photography; my verse and her photos matched! Grateful thanks to Cheryl for sharing these photos here. Check out her blog at http://www.cherylcrotty.com/blog/.

103 thoughts on “Wise Being of the Night

  1. Pam … I am going to read this to my grand kids … the 12 year old will of course read it on her own … but can’t help but notice how she always listens in when I’m reading to her brother and her little cousin.

    • How interesting about your mom, Jill. An owl’s hoot is definitely mysterious. Once your hummingbirds leave, I hope an owl comes and visits you. (By the way, our hummers are still sucking up the water from the feeder as if they’re parched. Now I can watch from my bedroom window – just 2 feet away from the feeder – and they acknowledge I’m there but aren’t scared, so they take their time in each little hole. Soooo cool). ❤

  2. The poem and photos go perfectly together. I love the part about the owl and his love–and how he brings her food.
    Once on my birthday, I saw an owl on a tree branch right outside my living room window. It was late afternoon, but my birthday is in December so it was already getting dark. It was like a bit of birthday magic. 🙂

  3. Here in suburbia, we don’t get a lot of owls, but when I see one at night, I am fascinated. I love how they just sit and observe their world. I also love how they keep the rodent population in check. Your poem captured the uniqueness of these creatures and the photos are lovely.

  4. I’m learning now to love the dark. I’m re-reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s book Learning to Walk in the Dark that includes walking through caves that require belly squirm, eating at restaurants “in the dark” and lying in the dark observing glorious stars and probably hearing the hoot of an owl or two.

    I join your readers who admire the pairing of poem and pictures. 🙂

    • Whoa, Marian. I’d walk with you in the dark, but I don’t think I’ll join you in any of those low dark caves. I’m claustrophobic – I need my tree branches, like the owls! 🙂
      But learning to love the dark – that’s such an interesting concept. I often bemoan the fact that we (collectively) don’t step outside our homes at night any more and note the millions of stars above.
      I bet the owl does….

  5. Beautiful! My daughter is obsessed with owls. She loves them. They are exquisite creatures. We have them in Texas of course year round. But they can be a little frightening also. I was able to just barely prevent one from getting my cat. It was swooping down when I yelled and scared it off. Never let my kitty out after dark again. Love the poem and the photos. 😊 

    • Wow! I didn’t know an owl would go after a cat. Mouse yes, Rats perhaps. But cats?? Yikes. Good for you, protecting your kitty. Interesting that your daughter relates to owls. Years ago my son gave me a stuffed owl that he found in a children’s store – I don’t know why – but it’s still fluffy and lovely and sits on my guest bed. Alone. (No cats up there!) 🙂

  6. Beautifully done. We have owls in the trees around our house for most of the fall and winter, and I could relate to this poem. You have the details down pretty accurately and your choice of vocabulary is lovely.
    The photos complement the image your words provide.

  7. Ahhh the owls, for some reason Owls seem to like RV parks. And there hoots would come at daybreak, which always surprised me! I lived in an RV park in AZ and here in TX. I had heard that the one in AZ had a baby, but I never saw them. Wish I had!

    Beautiful poem and pictures!

    Enjoy your weekend!

    • Synchronicity, or coincidence or “meant to be”? I wrote my owl poem months ago and forgot about it. Stumbled across Chery’s owl photography on Instagram. Spent some time going through my writing journals and there was my poem! Then I contacted Cheryl via her blog and Instagram. A friendship of owls blended. 🙂

  8. I can’t tell you how much I love this poem and you made my photo’s come alive with your words…a treasure for me to keep…Thank you so much for your confidence in my photography, knowing it would be a perfect fit for your words…just lovely.

    • Not sure why my comment above came through as Anonymous…but I’ll try one more time here to see if we can fix it…Thanks Pam for letting me know…xo I loved working with you on this poem with my owl photo’s…came out so awesome.

      • Yay! You are no longer anonymous! 🙂 Just want everyone to know who you are so your photos can be admired. You’ve got such talent AND perseverance, to wait patiently for the owls to get to know you, and then allow you to be part of their sanctuary. xo

    • Thanks Joanne. Yes, owls blend in and they don’t want to be seen. Cheryl spent hours just watching them, and allowing them to watch her, before they became comfortable enough to stay while she shot with her camera. As we all know, talent never comes easily. Instead, it’s patience and time and effort. Well, perhaps a bit of luck, also. 🙂

  9. These are very good pic of the owlets and their parents. The great horned owl has such a presence. My favorite is the red phase of the screech owl sitting in the tree cavity. Very nice presentation of the owls.

    • I would like to do artistic/creative collaborations more in the future, Diane. I think that’s the wave of the world now, particularly among women. My longtime college friend became the illustrator for my children’s book Birds of Paradise (and a college dorm mate ended up being the publisher!). Such huge satisfaction, tagging on to each other’s talents. xo

  10. That we both posted owl photos on the same day is fun, Pam, thanks for pointing this out to me. It must’ve been a wise kind of day. 😉 Your owl poem is lovely, and Cheryl’s photos are great. Hearing a hooting owl is a blessed experience, wonderful to share it in a poem as you have done here.

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