The Owlet's Reflections

Lispy surveyed his surrounding area, as the moonlight caught a glimpse of his white feathered body. Lisby lived in a tall oak forest, with a river trickling past. He lived in what should have been his paradise and his forest usually had a thick blanket of snow covering the landscape and tree tops. Lispy’s stomach grumbled. He must scavenge for food. His eyes darted from tree to tree, trying to spot easy prey, and this led him to a mouse in the distance. In one foul swoop, he took the mouse and brought it back to his tall oak tree. The next night, Lispy was trying to catch fish. He wanted to be recognised as a fierce bird, who should not be reckoned with…a creature to be reckoned with when passing through his forest.

This was an innate need; a need borne from his past.

Lispy soared through the air and dived into the pristine water with absolute precision. His talons tore through the salmons’ flesh, and he felt the tender meat underneath his claws. Tonight's dinner he smiled to himself.

Lispy was a barn owl …a small, white, but fierce bird, that was both quick and agile. In Lispys’ world, his breed was hunted by humans, who used the barn owl feathers for many of their daily purposes-decorations, innards for doonas, sewn into blankets, and the owl flesh as a staple diet.

When Lispy was an owlet, his parents were shot and killed with arrows. Hunters found their home and lay in wait till Lispy’s parents brought back the evening meal to Lispy and his siblings.

Lispy had lay in his nest…hopeless…looking on while his parents’ lifeless bodies were taken away. He had been unable to move….he had been petrified. Lispy was not to know that the hunters would not kill the owlets but would rather wait till the owlets had grown before they would hunt them for food…but Lispy was not to know this …yet. Unable to move.... he had stayed cowering in his nest. Two of his siblings fled from the nest but the height had been too great, and they had plunged to the forest floor. He remembered just trembling.

As the weeks passed, he grew up scavenging; always fighting to stay alive; always struggling and the warmth of the nest became a distant memory…his parents images started to fade. What didn’t fade was his anger and his need to be feared, as in that fear, might come a possibility that the hunters would not return; that he may never be hurt by any creature. He repeated this mantra over and over again as he became stronger. He blamed himself for not being able to do anything to protect his parents.

He felt empty and alone…and was often lost in his own thoughts. Should he move on and live a happy and contented life? Was he allowed to be happy and contented when all he had loved had been taken away from him? What could he do to be feared and hated? He was still so small. He felt that if he picked the life he wanted, he could forget his parents.... and in time, forgive the humans that killed his parents for their own needs. He wanted to forgive them. He wanted to wash away the empty feelings…

Dragging himself into the present, he looked at his surrounding fields. He saw the birds singing in the trees; and the water glistening as the icicles melted into the water. He watched as a school of fish, swam down the river, and turned his eyes back to the birds singing on the branch near him. They were singing a lullaby to the midnight stars....

Lispy needed this tranquillity. He needed it to live.

He took his flight and soared through a moonlit path. He whispered, “I am so sorry I couldn't protect you…I am so sorry….I need to move on to fully live my life…. I loved you both so much….I will never forget you”

Lispy continued to soar, continued to breathe…filled his tiny chest with strength…began to look for a new purpose…

He had a long journey ahead of him.