To become an Owl

Growing up my father would tell me stories of old martial artists who used to roam the land. How they would study various animals and learn how to mimic their style of movement and adapt it to a human’s. In this they were not only able to become much fiercer fighters but it also allowed them to become one with the land. They not only understood the animals of nature but nature itself and the role that it played in their lives. There was one style in particular though that always caught my attention when my father would tell me about it. Owl style.

Owl style focused on three main tenets of the owl itself. The sharp eyes that are able to spot the smallest prey from hundreds of yards away even in the dead of night. The razor talons that could clutch and rip flesh from bone in an instant. Lastly though most important in my book is the owl's ability to become completely silent when it flies. Its massive wings flapping through the air and yet not making a sound. Anytime my father would tell me about owl style I would stop whatever I was doing so that I could listen. I could become so focused on his stories that I would stop doing what I had been doing even if it was to my own detriment. On more than one occasion I ended up dropping things on my feet because of how enraptured I became.

So you can imagine how happy I became when a barn owl decided to take up residence in our open shed one day. He was a rich dark brown with the occasional white spotting across his body. His eyes were a dark rich color that seemed to pierce through my soul as I looked at him. I immediately asked my father to take me to the library so that I could look up what I needed to do to make sure that he would stay with us. My father laughed at me but he took me nonetheless saying that having an owl around would help keep snakes out of the yard. Once I was armed with information I came home and spent the next week turning that shed into the perfect home for a barn owl. He decided to stay with us and I was the happiest kid I had ever been.

I had basic martial arts training because of my father but I had never decided to push it further until the barn owl came. I named him Maoto which was a shortened version of the Chinese word for owl. I would stay up every night as long as I was allowed to try and watch him hunt. This had an inadvertent positive side effect. My night sight slowly got better as well as my ability to spot the small twitches that Maoto had. Each one of his twitches was a different sign for something he was going to do next. Over time I slowly was able to learn what each little movement meant and was able to see them clearly even when others didn’t know he had moved.

After two weeks of watching Maoto I finally got to see him hunt. He hadn’t moved much since he had first arrived and I was starting to become impatient in my want to see him in action. As I watched him one night suddenly his giant wings spread out and he took flight into the night. I watched him flying and wondered how those giant wings were flapping and yet I couldn’t hear a single sound coming from them. For now though I focused on his feet. I could see the glint coming off of his talons as he flew. His head twisted and he dove towards the ground. I ran as close as I dared to try and see the kill happen. I arrived just in time to watch one foot suddenly close around something on the ground. I could see the twitch running all the way up through the leg as the talons closed on their prey and pierced through the fat mouse that had been running through our yard. That sight alone was enough for me to begin my training.

Day in and day out when I wasn’t doing chores I stood outside with a firm but pliable ball of fabric. I would strike out at it with only my thumb, index, and middle finger trying to grasp it with enough force that I could pull it back to me. I quickly became frustrated when my fingers kept sliding off without being able to actually grasp the material. However, even in my frustration I never gave up and I continued to watch Maoto every day and night trying to divine the secret to the owl’s talon. Over six months of practice and watching Maoto went on before one day it finally happened. I struck out at the ball of fabric and as I pulled my hand back not only did I manage to grab the ball of fabric but my fingers actually pierced through it slightly. I stared in wonderment at my hand before crowing out in excitement so loudly that I startled Maoto and caused my father to come running out to check on me. I turned to my father still clutching the ball of fabric in my hand and all he did was smile and shake his head before heading back inside the house.

My next assignment was being able to grab at something soft like skin and not only clutch it but also be able to rip it off if I felt the need. I tied some plastic tight around a firm stone to serve me as a constant reminder to not extend my fingers too far. For another two years I stood outside day in and day out trying to grab and rip the plastic all in one fluid motion. I suffered a few broken fingers as a result of hitting the rock by moving too fast but I viewed that as simply an occupational hazard in my journey to try and teach myself owl style. Finally after a long two years I managed to do it and then I stood there over the course of a week and ripped every last piece of plastic from that rock.

My night sight and ability to notice even the smallest movements at this point was almost on level with Maoto. I found there were nights when he was hunting that I would spot his next potential prey before him and I would give out a soft hoot to draw his attention. My fingers on both hands were now well honed and capable of doing terrifying things much like the talons of a barn owl. Finally I had to master being able to move quickly while making no sound. I would spend several years moving into adulthood before I fully mastered this technique at least to the level that I wanted. After only five years I was able to sneak up on anyone I wanted including people who claimed to have heightened senses. However, that wasn’t good enough for me because I still couldn’t sneak up on Maoto.

By the age of thirty five I considered myself well versed in my own version of owl style. I was able to peer through the dark at any time of night with or without the moon to guide me. I could grab and clutch anything I wanted with nothing but three fingers on each hand. Being quiet and stealthy was second nature to me at this point so much so that everyone who knew me told me I should wear a bell so that they could all know when I was coming and going. There were only two individuals who were not impressed by my abilities. Maoto and myself. The barn owl would watch me in the dusk hours as it was waking up and I swore it looked like he was bored watching me. As if my movements that impressed everyone else so much was nothing more than a worm wriggling in the dirt to him. It didn’t matter how close I could execute looking like him even having developed a way for me to leap up in the air and “glide” silently forward. Maoto could not care in the least of my mimicry.

Maoto was old at this point, especially for a barn owl. When I had looked up information on them as a child it said that at most he should live maybe twenty years. He was full grown when I met him and that had been twenty five years ago. I could tell age was starting to catch up with him though because he was starting to slow down when he hunted. Taking his time to line up his dives carefully instead of acting quickly with the pinpoint precision that he once had. One night as I watched him hunting he set his eyes upon a snake that was moving to its burrow for the evening. The snake noticed him swooping in even before he began the dive really and coiled itself up getting ready to strike at an obvious opening. I quickly darted across the yard keeping myself quiet. When I got within striking distance I lashed out and grabbed the snake by the neck, gripping it but not too firmly and threw it in the direction it had been moving before. As Maoto dived past me I saw him actually turn his head and give me the slightest nod as if he were showing me respect.

I went to bed that night profoundly proud of myself for finally having been able to impress Maoto. When I woke up in the morning I could immediately tell that something was wrong. I ran outside and looked in the shed to check on Maoto. At first glance he seemed fine that he was sleeping. However my eyes were far too sharp at this point to be fooled for more than a second. I realized that at some point during the night Maoto had gone to sleep and passed away. I lifted his body gingerly from his nest and gave him a proper burial befitting my master. As I finished my own personal funeral for Maoto something happened that to this day I can’t explain. I heard a hoot coming from above me and I looked up to see Maoto but much younger. He looked the same as the first day that I met him. Suddenly he dived down straight into my chest and disappeared inside of it. I became calm and increasingly aware of my surroundings, especially the harsh daylight.

Over time my sleep schedule slowly changed to where I no longer worked during the day but was fully alive at night. I decided I would pass on the teachings of Maoto and open up my own martial arts school specializing in only Owl style kung fu though I fully admitted in my brochures that it was in no way an official style but one I had taught myself. However I ended up having several dedicated students from all over the world through the years who worked with the fact that I only taught at night. A year before I passed I was visited by a master martial artist from China who quizzed me on my style after hearing about it from a friend of his who had trained under me. After he watched me go through my whole style and demonstrate my abilities he informed me that he was also an official licenser of martial arts back in China. I was told that my style would be officially recognized as a true martial art and that with my permission it would be taught to others back in China. Of course I consented, absolutely stunned and amazed that this man had seen me perform my Owl style and thought it to be good enough to teach to others.

At the end of my life I was surrounded by what little family I had left and many of my students. I was old now and my body had finally succumbed to the ravages of time. I told everyone around me to keep putting the Owl style out into the world not in memory of me but in memory of Maoto. I looked up to the ceiling above me and I could feel myself starting to slip away. The ceiling slowly faded away showing only the open night sky and I could see Maoto flying high above me. I reached my hand out in the form of a talon to him and he turned his sharp eyes looking directly at me. My final moment was seeing him swoop down and take my soul from my body as it turned into an owl in his talons. He let me go and I took flight soaring into the world to finally see the world from his point of view. After years of trying to mimic the owl I finally was one.

I had this idea a little while ago for the barn owl challenge and just had to write it. I hope you all enjoyed it. If you did then please heart, subscribe, and feel free to leave a tip. You can now also please 3 dollars a month to me and help support me as a creator. If you do, then you get the benefit of having my stories at the top of your subscription feed anytime I post something new. Till next time.