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Owl
Topic Started: May 11 2014, 04:02 PM (268 Views)
Sr. Owl
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Brown
I am an Owl-lwO. With two great eyes. There is nothing i can not see. I observe and no one can observe me – I am the shadowy creature that no one sees. Silence, darkness and death. The stillness of my figure reveals the wisdom of what once was. I am the harbinger of death! I observe and I hunt it down. I do not think; I do not hesitate. I am the unforeseen. I am silent like only the night can be.

For many years I have lived in an abandoned white chapel. The humans built it high, on a windy promontory, with the vastness of the sea at its feet. It is quite mystique. Sometimes, specially when the sun is shining, the humans came here to behold the life they are missing. I hear them. The useless is their talking; How can one not laugh at them?

It was on a day like this that a crow heard my laughter, and invited me here, to share some of what have been filling the conscious life of a fool.


Quote:
 
Wherever it flies, flies only with the weight of its feathers.





- Intuition
- Vision
- Confidence
- Experience
- Wisdom
- Mystery
- Hearing
- Stealth
- Change
- Messenger
- Stealth

Posted Image

Edited by Sr. Owl, May 11 2014, 04:21 PM.
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crow
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Welcome, Owl. I know you well by what you write, here and elsewhere.
You are brethren to the creatures of the sky and of the night.
Paradoxically, you are the one thing crows fear. Which is why a crow wears black camo.
Yet this crow invites death, knowing death is the paradox of life, and not a thing to be feared.

Here is a friend of mine: The Barred Owl. We have had many conversations.

Posted Image


Edited by crow, May 11 2014, 05:51 PM.
"Squawk!" said the crow, and then made space.
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Sr. Owl
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Brown
Look at the depth of his sight. That is intuition. He is ready for everything. You have a majestic friend, crow.
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Sr. Owl
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Brown
The Owl no longer lives – it was killed by the sheer darkness of the mystery [or by its own folly and ignorance]. To venture further through the nameless, a new kind of being is needed – especially one who talks less and realizes more. The adventure will continue in silence. Thank You.
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crow
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With 100 posts, he called it quits. That's too bad for us. Too good for him.
Be well, Owl. In this life and the next.
Thank you for visiting.
"Squawk!" said the crow, and then made space.
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crow
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The Barred Owl returns. Sitting for days in a Fir, by the pond. He's big now, and upsets everything with his menacing silhouette.
Robins shriek, woodpeckers shrill, wrens chuck and thrushes chatter.
When he cries, his voice is alien and nerve-shattering. Like ball bearings dropped into a steel drum from a hundred feet up.
So loud, and then so utterly silent.

I found a discarded feather, today. From his breast, probably. Down-soft and mottled. The means to his silent stalk.
There is a quality, of owl, above all others, that somehow escaped notice until now:

Patience!

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Edited by crow, Jun 13 2017, 09:54 PM.
"Squawk!" said the crow, and then made space.
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