On Mended Wing

Lincoln was a 12-year-old boy, wild at heart and longing for adventure. He was the only boy child, in a family of five living on the outskirts of a quaint Montana town. His family stemming back many generations had lived a simple life. They lived in a modest cottage away from the hustle and bustle of town. His family maintained their own garden, and hunted and fished the land as was custom. He walked a mile to and from school each day and often cut through the woods on his way. While walking about the woods, climbing over fallen trees and jumping down creek beds he felt alive and free in a way that is hard to put to words.

On his travels, he often would bring home an array of treasures. He had an eye for unique rocks, fossils, and on occasion would find a branch to whittle away at after the sun dipped below the horizon. Lincoln’s Father and Grandfather had taught him how to identify tracks, trails and scat. He considered himself to be, a true woodsman! He had learned about the animals that are native to his home. He knew to watch, listen and observe, but to leave alone. He had learned the birds by their feathers and had collected an assortment. He kept these in a shadow box display above his bunk.

Lincoln enjoyed telling his sisters stories by the light of the fire. He often would pounce around the room animating his tales. As his sisters were far younger and still not in school, they anxiously awaited his return each day. They would stand watch at the window when the hour was near, and were eager of course to see and to hold any treasure he might bring.

On a blustery fall day, the wind whistled through the trees as Lincoln made his way home. He did not know what adventure was in store. Today the lad would have an experience he would speak of for years to come. Truly, it was only the beginning.

Lincoln heard the creeks and groans as the old pines swayed. He was grateful that the mighty pines shielded him some from the wind as he went. Ahead in the distance, he heard a crack then a crash. He knew well it must be a branch or a tree falling. He sped up eager to see. As Lincoln came around the bend there was a mighty pine. It had fallen clear across the path leaving the smaller more delicate brush crushed beneath. As he neared the tree and could see just beyond it, he stopped. Not believing his eyes at first, he forced himself to blink and to think.

Looking quite stunned as one might imagine, was a young barn owl, it had been nesting in the big tree that had fallen. It was quite evident to Lincoln that it was not merely startled but injured. Its wing appearing to be broken as it made effort to flee when he took a step closer. Quick thinking, Lincoln shed his coat, and eased his way closer. He then with quick movement sprung upon the owl his with his coat held open. He swept it up in his arms as carefully as he could. The owl resisted at first. Lincoln knew the animal must be fear filled so he made effort to swaddle it and keep its eyes covered and made his way home. He knew that the owl injured as it was, would never survive if not helped. Making haste, he sprinted the half-mile home wind stinging his cheeks.

Seeing Lincoln running full sprint towards the house the girls were a flutter calling to their mother and father. “Lincoln is running! He is coming fast up the hill!” This not being the norm, the entire bunch were there ready to open the door as winded and red-faced Lincoln reached the house. Momma brushed the girls aside so Lincoln could make way into the cottage. He cradled the bundle until he neared the hearth. Sitting down he motioned for all to stand back and sat gently down. He whispered as he made request that his father bring a box with a lid yay big as he nodded toward the bundle still cradled in his arms.

Gently lowering the bundle into the box Lincoln removed his coat. A magnificent and sad sight to see! Lincoln’s father came closer to assess the extent of the owl’s injuries. Lincoln new this was a mendable injury and him and his father set the wing using technique tried and true. With splint made from stick and tied in place with rags torn to size. Time, rest and nutrition were the things needed for the owl to heal. As Lincoln and his father tended to the owl the curious sisters watched. Mother went to the kitchen bringing back a fish, fresh from fathers catch earlier that day.

This was the start of a family endeavor, to show favor on the majestic owl. They named the owl Autumn, Auti for short. This seemed perfect, as the autumn breeze brought her here under their care. Auti at first was a bit snippy, not trusting and timid at times. Per Fathers direction, Lincoln and Father would be the ones to handle feedings and rehabbing when time came. Lincoln still learning asked his Father when they would know it was time to rehab as he wished not rush but new the owl, wild at heart much like himself would long to be free.

Father assured Lincoln that Auti would indeed tell them when ready in her own way. Lincoln wondered to himself how she might do this, as birds do not speak plainly to people. He learned though in caring for her each day to interpret her moods, movement and gestures. Lincoln kept her calm so that she might heal by keeping her in the box with the lid on in the quiet of his room. He made a nest of straw for her with in. It did not take long and she took a liking to this. Many weeks later, she became a bit more restless. Daily more and more so, and began making efforts to leave the box when feeding times came. Lincoln knew it was time.

Perched upon Lincoln’s arm day after day Auti would attempt to stretch her wings and fly. On the 8th day, as spring was hinting to be coming Auti extended her mended majestic wing and took flight! Lincoln and his whole family cheered with pure joy to see their feathered friend wild with the wind once again. She soared into the distance above the pond and back, to perch upon the fence rail and look fondly at the family before setting off beyond their sights.

Lincoln missed dear Auti. He wondered where her wings had carried her. He did not have to wonder for long as one day soon after, when he arrived home he looked up at the tall pine at the end of the row of pines nearest the cottage, and saw a nest. In it was an owl with a familiar face. Auti had made a home there, though most owls as everyone knows, prefer the woods. Auti and generations of majestic barn owls from then after returned to nest and watch over the dear family who gave comfort in time of need. If you pass by the homestead a sight you will see, a majestic owl with wings flying-free. This became the story Lincoln would tell to his children and grandchildren with a sparkle in his eyes. The memories of a boy, wild at heart and a tale of an adventure that made him feel alive in a way that is hard to put into words but easily interpreted by the smile on his face.