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The Owl and I, Part 2
The truth comes quietly
The short and secretive cameo of the barred owl on Mother’s Day had me prepped for Monday’s long appearance. I have never, however, in my life, seen owls mid-day here in Indiana. But, here I was.
In some ways, the sighting of the barred owl was a similar experience to the great horned owl. I was alone. I was walking in the trees, trying to find my quiet place. I was surprised both times, as it was broad daylight. I was searching for some peace in a place of great internal turmoil.
The website symbolismandmetaphor.com gives some insight:
“If you see a barred owl, it is a sign that you are feeling protective over someone or something. Perhaps it is over a part of your identity which you hold close to your chest.”
Context: There is much about my identity that I am negotiating right now. My vision of myself as a country girl, a wholesome, upstanding, good woman, my being a student, a musician, and a lover of all things green.
I’m trying to wrap my head around telling my parents that I am going to move into town with my boyfriend for a couple of years, renting my home and farm to strangers, in order to finish school. I care about school about 1% as much as I care about my farm. But…since I don’t have a choice whether to work for the rest of my life or not, I…
