Owl Visit at Twilight

This afternoon I saw a Specialist, and was advised to go to different specialist, "I don't work in the sewer," he said. I told him I could probably just visit with He Who Must Be Obeyed, the Civil Engineer with his major emphasis in Environmental Waste Water or something like that. It is good to laugh over health issues. But I will be waking up to the same old unsolved problem I suppose. Don't get me wrong, I genuinely like the doctor. He saved HWMBO's life three years ago and that counts for a lot. But it is like he said, he doesn't work in the sewer. Odd way to put it, but funny.

About the picture of the owls. I have hoped to see them again ever since the neighbor's Fourth of July M-80's sent them out of the back yard trees never to be seen again this summer. I could write an essay about the dumb things I pray about and the owl visit would be right up there with good parking spaces or green lights when I am late getting off to church.

I swam again through twilight until dark; and as I was swimming laps in tepid water in the darkling day I prayed, lap and pray, lap and pray. Alone, comfortably warm, no joint pain, annoyances melting away. I did mention the owls again, as I sometimes do, for they gave me such joy this spring. We need unexpected joy at times, the kind of joy that can be replayed in one's mind and the same joyfilled endorphines swim about in the head as the first experience brought.

Looking up during a lap, I glanced toward the fence against a darkening sky. I saw the little owl. Who saw me. I spoke to him in a chucking sort of way and tried to give him a little hoot or two. He looked at me quite a while before he raised his wings and without a sound flew over the roof toward the front yard. This is most certainly true.

I wonder what is on his menu these days. In June and July I suspected that his mother gave him a regular diet of baby birds so numerous in our pine trees and row of hews. One evening I watched English Sparrows dive bombing the owls on their favorite tree limb. There are no baby birds now that Autumn is three days old.