Last winter, on a rare earth warm day, a friend and I escaped some of technologies tentacles for a healthy bask, out in the desert sun. Bringing along the mandatory dog, we found a not-so-muddy trail - an uncommon February treat for these parts. We went below Magic. –Reservoir that is, chopping out tiny ice archipelagos for Lucas the dog, to bound in between, as we hurled pointed sticks for him to chase, to and fro, betwixt the slow channel’s miniature floating islands.
It felt rewarding, to gather these essential vitamin sunshine bits in the midst of winter. I hadn’t been out that way for a while. As we returned from our day in the sun, I suddenly recollected hearing a strange experience that another friend had talked about, ten years before. She was out in the same area, near where the river parallels the canal. It’s a great place to get away from it all, with always a few lava rocks or other objects of interest worth picking up to examine. As I remember it, my art-entranced friend, was walking along the dry creek bed, scrutinizing shimmering sun-patterned lava rock. Suddenly a saw-whet owl whooshed out from under the solid creek bed and smacked her clean in the forehead, with enough stunning force to spill her sharply into the glazed river rock.
My friend cut short her nature trek, due to this hard cuff to the forehead. Upon returning home, she received the message that her mother had passed on! It took me almost ten years to consider that perhaps the owl was in some mysterious way, a messenger connected with this omen. When I shared this message with another friend, she got the chills too, because, the day her mother passed on, an owl had been hanging around their doorsill, fluttering about for half the day, behaving in unusual ways.