She climbed the make-shift steps to the hayloft – pieces of wood nailed to the wall – to throw some fresh hay down to feed the two hungry horses she just stalled for the night. She pulled herself up through the opening to the loft as she had done hundreds of times before, nothing unusual. As she stood up and flipped on the old light switch, she glimpsed the owl staring down at her from the high rafters.
On this warm evening, she felt compelled to watch the wise bird for a moment. There was something about the way he looked at her. Watching, judging, questioning. It reminded her of the way her older brother used to watch over her before he left last year. Now it was just her alone under the expectant eyes of her parents. Her youth burdened by the ingrained responsibilities of being the “Golden child.”
She could hear the horses below pawing and softly nickering, impatient for their hay. She pulled her gaze away, said “Goodnight” to the owl and continued with her final chore for the evening,
~~~
The next night, as she flicked on the light switch, she looked up to the place the owl had been the night before. He was there! And he was watching her with those piercing eyes. She stood still in his stare and spoke to him.
“Hello, Owl,” she greeted.
He returned a silent gaze.
“How has your evening been?”
He continued to stare.
She could hear the horses starting to get antsy below, so she got up to throw a bale of hay down to the bottom floor and finish her chores.
She said “Goodnight, Owl,” as she flipped off the light and headed back down the ladder.
~~~
The following evening, Miranda went through the same routine, but upon discovering the now predictable presence of the barn owl, she decided to have a conversation. Something seemed special about this bird. She felt compelled to discover more. She pulled up a bale of hay on which to sit and began. “Hello, Owl.”
He shifted his head slightly, seeming to focus on her words. His intense stare never wavered.
“How are you?” He shifted his head again in response, but his gaze remained steady.
“I’m here to speak with you, Mr. Owl (she didn’t know why she addressed him as such-it just felt right). I’m hoping for some insight.”
The owl kept looking at her, she felt like he was reading her mind.
“So, Owl, here’s the thing. This is my Senior year; I will be graduating in a week, and I don’t know what to do with my life. I’ve been set on a path for a long time, but for a while now I’ve been wondering if it’s really the right thing for me. Is that selfish? What should I do?”
With that, the owl gave a great flap of his strong wings and flew out of the opening of the loft.
“Good talk, Owl. Thanks.”
She threw the bale down to the bottom floor, climbing down the ladder to finish her chores. The two horses coaxed her to hurry up with their impatient nickers.
“Oh, you two!” Miranda teased as she gave them each their respective flakes of hay in their stalls. Immediately, they buried their noses in the soft hay. “You piggies!” Miranda teased as she gave each one a loving pat before leaving them to their nighttime dinners.
~~~
As she climbed into bed that night, her mind returned to the owl and his dramatic exit. Somehow, it seemed important. She didn’t know what it meant. She hoped for his return so she could ask him.
~~~
She looked up to the rafters again the next night when she returned to the barn to put up the horses for the night. She flipped on the light switch in the loft, but frowned when she looked up to the rafters and the owl wasn’t there.
“Oh! He’s gone,” she thought to herself. Slightly disappointed in the owl’s disappearance, Miranda finished her chores methodically, giving each horse it’s proper good-night pat before returning to the house.
Again, her thoughts turned to the owl and his flight out of the loft and into the night sky. She thought about how freeing it must feel to soar against the night air, how refreshing it must be to just know when and where you must go. How enlightening to have no self-doubts or fears of making the wrong choice or letting people down. She wanted to fly like the owl. With this thought, Miranda drifted off to sleep.
She dreamed of being in flight. She had broken free of a cage barred with expectations preventing her from spreading her strong wings. Miranda decided instead to engage with the refreshing breeze pulling her to follow the natural course.
In the morning, she awoke with clarity. She knew her plans upon graduation. She knew where she was going.
~~~
Miranda grabbed a notebook and pencil and headed to the hay loft. She sat comfortably on a hay bale and began her story.
She never did see the owl again, but the wisdom was forever life-changing.
About the Creator
KJ Aartila
A writer of words in northern WI with a small family and a large menagerie.
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Comments (1)
Such a sweet, simply told story.