Thursday, May 04, 2006

93/365 Loren

He gently wakes me. We are sleeping on the soft needles of a pine forest. It is nearly dawn. He points directly upward. There, on the lowest branch, is a small owl. Screech, I thought. In retrospect, maybe saw-whet. We wake Jon, Kirsten, Susan.

posted by Indigo Bunting at 6:27 AM

3 Comments:

Blogger Sewa Yoleme said...

What bliss! I remember when I first heard a barred owl in a tree close to me, though I couldn't hear him: "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?" And then, across the little valley, his friend--or was it his mate?--answered him. They called to one another several times as I stood there, thrilled and dumbstruck.

May 04, 2006 7:42 AM  
Blogger Susan said...

Ah, Bird Woman, you know how to do it. I would awake with pine needles imbedded in my butt, the rest of me covered with bug bites. But I'd have appreciated the owl. Truly.

May 04, 2006 9:45 AM  
Blogger Indigo Bunting said...

Susan: The owl would have made it all worthwhile!

SY: Aren't they amazing?

May 05, 2006 6:08 AM  

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