So, I was actually delighted to discover this small fellow perched on the track of my patio door on Thursday.
I was, of course, confused at first. The owlet had its back to me. I saw only a small, gray, fuzzy bundle in the corner of the doorway. I thought maybe it was an incapacitated squirrel, which was not something I wanted to deal with. Then, after a moment, the owlet sloooowly swiveled its head on its neck. A moment later, its slanty, sleepy eyes widened. Whooo! Its entire face filled with enormous yellow eyes. But it did not budge even as Muzzy and I both gawked at it through the glass door.
Owlet was only as big as my two puny fists stacked on top of one another and still had pin feathers. It looked so fluffy and soft, but those eyes told another story. I let it be (except for snapping a few pix) and went about my business, putting out the trash and listening to the news. I checked in on the owlet every little while. Still there, gazing quietly out at the yard, just as Roma used to do, just feet, in fact, from where Roma took her last breath. And as I padded around the house, I felt an unexpected sense of calm. Owls, as you know, represent wisdom, watchfulness, and restrained power. They are the symbol of Athena, the only Greek deity to be born from the body of Zeus. She sprouted from his head. (Full grown, too, I think. Ouch.) So, not to get too heavy-handed about the whole thing, but I felt a little more at ease knowing that my house was under the protection of an owlet, small but fierce.
Have a good weekend, everybody.