The Stranger

It was thirteen to nine and the forces of nature had completed their masterpiece upon the evening sky. The upper limb of the sun had just disappeared upon the horizon and the clouds resonated with a blend of bright orange and yellow; a perfect amber. It reminded me of the words of Emily Dickinson;

A sloop of amber slips away

Upon an ether sea,

And wrecks in peace a purple tar,

The son of ecstasy.

The visual was breathtaking and almost surreal. It was as if the giant of our sky was making way for the glory of the night and its starlit canopy. I had set my camera to record and placed it upon a tripod stand which was erected beside me where I was seated with my friend of twelve days, Brianna.

“I don’t think I have seen a sunset so colourful in my entire life,” Brianna spoke, her voice clearly hinting the awe in which she was in. “Back in Iceland the clouds always cover the sky. And we barely get a glimpse of the sun, much of a sunset.”

We waited approximately half an hour and when the stars took to ruling the night sky, we drove back to Strahan. We had dinner at a local restaurant and then Brianna drove me to the station where she bid me farewell. It was the end of her backpacking journey in two days which was why she couldn’t join me on my journey to Queensland, Tasmania. Although the time was short, I was thankful for the time that I knew her and we promised to stay connected.

The train ride was comfortable. Forty-five minutes passed soon and by the strike of midnight I arrived at the station. Jason, who has been a friend of mine for the past three years picked me up and drove me to his house. He was quite excited when I had told him news of my arrival four months ago and was eagerly waiting for this day. He had offered me accommodation at his apartment so finding a place to stay was not a hassle.

I had only six hours of sleep and awoke early the next morning to climb Mount Huxley. Jason accompanied me stating that he had taken leave from work for the next couple of days allowing the two of us to engage in as much as we could while I was there. The trail took us through a forest where we had to be careful not to wander off at risk of getting lost or running into reptiles that we didn’t want to. But halfway through the woods, a soft screech echoed through the dampened air. Jason and I immediately paused and looked at each other in shock.

“What was that?” I asked, my eyes trailing in every possible direction that was there.

“I don’t know,” Jason replied, baffled. “I haven’t heard that before.”

It erupted again. But this time it was much stronger. I looked up and immediately locked eyes with a bird, wide-eyed and looking at me with caution. It appeared to be studying me carefully and its gaze alerted me that it was interested in what I was about to do, and what my next course of action was. Jason followed my gaze and immediately gulped. He wasn’t a fan of owls and his worried look said it all.

“Uh, what is a barn owl doing in these parts of the woods?” He questioned in both disbelief and fright.

“Are they not supposed to be here?” I asked.

“No one has ever seen one in these parts of the woods,” He replied.

“I think we should leave,” I suggested quietly. “It doesn’t look too happy that we’re here.”

Jason agreed but in an attempt to leave accidentally trampled a stick which cracked and echoed into the treetops above us. And then the owl swooped down without warning, talons stuck out with intent to harm.