Barn on the Hill

The sun had arced over the barn- almost 180 degrees - and was beginning to slowly fall beyond where the field meets the forest of Pines, Maples, Birch, Oak, some remaining Black Walnut, but sadly no more Ash because they had been taken by blight in the past years. The renovated barn now held space for a second-floor deck in place of where the original hayloft would have been. Summer in New Hampshire – a warm, humid, slightly hazy evening with the pink of the sunset slowly transmuting into various shades of darkness welcoming the night. The barn owl perched herself in the middle on top of the white, wooden fence which encompassed the second-floor deck. The owl eerily and majestically exuded a presence as if she embodied Athena herself, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom. The owl looked out onto the field and watched the sun fall where the trees met the field to say goodbye to that day.

The sparrows, woodpeckers, bluebirds, and cardinals had been in the presence of the owl during the day and the owl allowed space for them in her territory without interaction while they strongly were aware of her presence. The wild turkeys which moved together slowly on the vibrant green grass during the day acknowledged her presence and continued moving on their way with respect. The does in the field which came out early morning and at sunset would notice her perched high and would make their own nods of reverence as they pranced through the fields occasionally stopping for some moments to grab bites of grass. The black bear that would honor everyone with his presence when he made a grand entrance looked up with his piercing, intense, yellow eyes to the owl as if acknowledging another regal creature, but one with wings, and then would continue on raiding the bird feeders for a light evening snack.

However, it was the pigeons who would fly around the barn and wanted so much to land on the top of the white, wooden fence on the second-floor deck where the owl claimed her territory. For a while – maybe a day or few at the most, they kept their distance from the owl. The pigeons – usually enjoying life in the nearby city of Boston or Manchester or Nashua – mysteriously found their way to the barn on the hill two years ago.

The morning appeared by the sun rising again meeting the barn with its rays welcoming the day. Today, the pigeons shared the top of the white, wooden fence on the second-floor deck near the owl in the middle. The pigeons, an intelligent bird – just as intelligent as the owl- knew that this owl wasn’t an owl like they had known before. This owl wasn’t moving her head as owls do, this owl’s eyes weren’t widely looking at everything around her, this owl’s presence was statue-like as there were no feathers being ruffled while perched in the middle on top of the white, wooden fence on the second-floor deck. The pigeons knew the secret. They were smart – just like owls. This owl stayed perched in the middle on the top of the white, wooden fence on the second-floor deck during the day and during the night. This owl wasn’t just nocturnal. Yes, the pigeons discovered the owl’s secret.

The farmer walked out on the second-floor deck and grabbed the owl with his hands by its base on the top of the white, wooden fence on the second-floor deck. The farmer turned the owl upside down and opened the compartment which held the batteries. The farmer removed two new batteries from his pocket and replaced the old ones with them. The pigeons did not fly away. The pigeons remained on the top of the white, wooden fence on the second-floor deck.