An Unexpected Visitor
The other evening, just before nightfall, I walked into my spare bedroom, which I rarely go into, and sitting at the window looking in at me with beautiful amber eyes was a small owl. I adore owls. My love of owls is a trait I share with my paternal grandmother, Matilda, or Tillie, as she was called by those who knew and loved her. This little owl was a welcome but unexpected visitor, and I find myself unable to stop thinking about him, his visit, and what he could represent.
Many of you know I do not believe in coincidence. I truly believe everything happens for a reason, and there is meaning in every interaction. It is no secret I have been missing my dad a lot lately. His birthday is in February, and it always makes his absence more present for me. I have found myself internally rehashing unhealthy relationships, painful events and trying to make sense of things beyond my control. Often while in the throws of reflection, I find myself wishing my dad were here to talk things through with me. He had an uncanny ability to make me feel as if all would be well, things could be righted, and nothing is hopeless. My inner balance feels a bit off, if that makes sense. I believe my little visitor was a messenger or sign.
Owls are associated with wisdom, intelligence, intuitiveness, change, and a belief in mystery. I feel that my little visitor was a sign for me to believe in the changes that have occurred, embrace the mystery, and allow patience to prevail. I never go into that room, and to walk into that room at the perfect time to see this beautiful creature looking back at me was no coincidence. I needed a sign, had asked for a sign, and I believe I got one.
In North American culture, seeing an owl is considered a bad omen and taken very seriously. Some Native American tribes believe owls are a harbinger of death. I refuse to believe my beautiful amber-eyed visitor was anything negative. How could such a lovely, majestic creature bring anything but light and beauty into the world? I feel very honored that he made his appearance and watched me so patiently. I have looked for him every evening since but to no avail. I know deep down, his brief visit was a once-in-a-lifetime gift, and I will probably never see him up close and personal again. I will hold onto that gift, believe in that sign, and take comfort that someone is listening and watching over me.
If I was just in the right place at the right time and this lovely creature was just taking refuge from the wind, it was still a beautiful gift and a lovely experience. Regardless of what anyone believes, it was awesome to see such an elusive and majestic creature up close. Seeing an owl at my window was a much needed gift, and I appreciate it.
As always, dear reader, stay safe, stay smart, look for the signs that all will be well, and keep washing your hands.