Transfiguration

Moonlight envelops the forest in its silvery mantle, illuminating her white and brown speckled wings as she sails effortlessly on the night's breeze. Her deep, black eyes penetrate the darkness as she listens intently for the scurrying sounds of a midnight snack. Her mind is consumed by a single purpose: the hunt. Her screech pierces the silence of the night like a calling from the Otherworld; terrifying, incessant...

Tessa's eyes fluttered softly open, as the screeching of her alarm clock interrupted her flight and pulled her back to Earth. Dappled light danced across the woven rug, as sunbeams dripped through the leaves and branches of the grandfather oak tree that sentineled outside her window. She blinked until the world came into focus, slowly taking in the sights of her bed, her bookshelf filled to overflowing, her poster of kittens tangled in balls of yarn. It always took her a few minutes to come back fully from dreams, especially this one. It was her favorite dream, one that she could slip into just as easily in her waking moments. It was more than a dream, it was a refuge where she could retreat when bad things happened, when she felt afraid or helpless. She could float away from her body and transform from a human girl into an ethereal owl, like the ones who nested in the old tobacco barn where she sometimes sought solitude; flying gracefully between shadow and light. She would sit so quietly below that they didn't seem to mind her. It was easy to drift off to this space where she was unencumbered by fear or confusion, where she could imagine how the world might look through another set of eyes. Barn owl eyes. In this place, she could dream herself happy. Inviolable. Free.

A shy and discerning girl, Tessa often struggled to connect with children her own age. She bore the burden of heavily guarded secrets that only deepened her introversion, surrounded by a world of adults who all seemed too consumed with themselves to take much notice. But she rather preferred it that way. She was quite contented to slip in and out of shadows, spending her time in quiet observation, drawing, or reading.

Reading offered Tessa an escape into more jovial realms when the land of dreams was unreachable, and she kept her books close as bosom companions. She was often caught reading when she was supposed to be focusing on other things; her literary havens hidden under a textbook of some school subject that couldn't hold her attention. It was the same experience that occurred in dreaming: she felt herself become the characters, their worlds full of adventure, hardship and triumph became hers as well. For her, reading was wholehearted transfiguration. It was no small wonder that Tessa's teacher would often have to repeat her name, loudly, several times before she was transported back to her desk, and realized she was being asked some question she had not heard a word of. After receiving a slight reproach and a sympathetic smile, she would reluctantly close her book and try to focus on long division, or whatever dreadfully mundane topic was being dictated.

One afternoon, while hiding in the library during recess, Tessa came across a large, leatherbound volume she hadn't seen before. It was quite heavy and seemingly ancient, looking as though it hadn't been touched in years. She had to wipe away the accumulated dust just to read the title. An Encyclopedia of Classical Greek Mythology. The cover portrayed a warrior woman donning an ornately plumed helmet, holding a sheild and spear. She was fiercely beautiful with gray eyes and a serious expression, and an owl on her shoulder. Tessa's eyes widened with excitement as she opened the book reverently, turning the pages as if it were a holy text. The book was filled with pictures of gods and goddesses of astonishing beauty and unparalleled strength, who all seemed very interesting, but Tessa was intent on finding one goddess in particular. She turned page after page until she was looking into the eyes of the ones she sought; Athena, goddess of war and wisdom, and her owl. White and brown speckled wings, deep black eyes. Tessa read voraciously, enthralled by Athena's myths: the accidental death of her best friend Pallas, her weaving contest with Arachne, her victory over Poseidon to become patron goddess of Athens. She was the most exciting heronine: strong, artistic, clever, and compassionate. The goddess was a protector of young women, coming to the aid of many who found themselves in troubling situations. One of these unfortunate maidens was Nyctimene, a princess of the island of Lesbos.

Nyctimene, a girl of surpassing beauty, had fled to the forest in shame after being raped by her own father, King Epopeus, the “All Seer." She remained hidden there, cloaked in her grief, afraid and helpless until one day Athena came upon her. The goddess had been drawn by her weeping and asked Nyctimene to explain the cause of her suffering. Upon hearing the young girl's story, Athena was filled with sympathy and offered to transform her into an owl. This way, she would be safe from danger, since owls are master navigators of the night and remain hidden in the day; and she would also have the honor of sitting on Athena's shoulder as her familiar. She would always be protected and honored.

Tessa felt two unexpected tears roll down her cheeks and fall onto the image of the two companions. Simultaneously, the screeching of the school bell alerted her that it was time to make a mad dash for the bus if she didn't want to be left behind. Tessa lugged her newfound treasure to the librarian's desk, who seemed more than a little surprised at her selection.

"Well dear, so you decided to switch things up from Island of the Blue Dolphins?" the librarian asked, smiling warmly.

Tessa blushed at the knowledge that she'd been observed so closely. It was true, Island of the Blue Dolphins had been her favorite to take home recently, but she liked to imagine that her activities were invisible to most people, as there was a certain freedom in anonymity. Clearly, she was more visible than she assumed.

"Yes ma'am," she answered shyly, giving the librarian a quick smile. Maybe it's ok to be seen sometimes, as long as the people seeing you are nice, Tessa thought, as she hugged the book to her chest and raced towards the bus parking lot.

Later that night, Tessa lay sprawled out on her rug, studying the images of Athena and the owl. She had pulled out her colored pencils and drawing pad, and was busily sketching different versions of the pictures from her book. She sometimes tried drawing the images from her dreams, but with those she had to work from memory; and giving form to her dreams often felt like trying to catch mist in her bare hands. They were always slightly out of reach, blowing across the sky of her mind's eye like pastel-colored clouds at sunset; beautiful and fleeting. This was much easier. She labored meticulously over both subjects, wanting to capture their likenesses and their relationship: protector and protected. As she worked on the owl's eyes, she imagined what Nyctimene may have felt when Athena transformed her. What a great weight might have been lifted from her, as she traded the painful memories of her human life for wings and the ability to traverse darkness. And then also, to be granted a seat at the goddess's right hand. Tessa felt the tears well in her eyes again.

It must be nice to have a goddess looking after you, she thought enviously. She imagined what it would be like to ride on Athena's shoulder, to trade secrets and give counsel, and then to disappear at will into the night. As she sketched, Tessa thought of how Athena must have loved Nyctimene to want to protect her so, and how wise she'd been to choose the form of an owl. She thought of the pair of owls she loved watching in the tobacco barn, the subtle brown-gray-white blending of their plumage, the way they could appear almost completely white at night. She heard their screeches pierce through the shadows of her mind.

When she had finished, Tessa observed her drawings thoughtfully, surprised at how accurately she had portrayed her subjects. It seemed almost as if someone or something else had been guiding her hand, for she had never drawn with such precise skill before. And in truth, she couldn't really remember the act of the drawing itself. She had been lost in her visions, and in a blink it seemed that they appeared on her page. She found them so beautiful that she decided to hang them on the wall just above her bed, using scotch tape to secure their edges. Gazing up at her artwork, she noticed a feeling expanding from her heart, something warm and comforting, something that might have been pride or delight for what she had created. She wasn't quite sure, as it was a somewhat new feeling to her, but she knew that she liked it because it chased away the other feelings that were more familiar and less pleasant. She thought of how she might even want to show them to her mom, when she was in a good mood, or her teacher. She wondered what Athena would think of her portraits, if they would be pleasing to her, if the goddess were there with her. Tessa closed her eyes and imagined Athena sitting next to her, a tiny smile on her serious face, approval beaming from her gray eyes, a reassuring arm resting on Tessa's shoulders. She thought of the kind librarian who smiled at her every time she came to the checkout desk, who noticed the books she liked best. Opening her eyes softly, she noticed how the Moon's light was dancing through the branches of the grandfather oak, kissing her face, hands and hair with its gentle, silver touch. She felt a sense of peace surround her, and a feeling that she, too, was looked after.

Before drifting off to sleep that night, Tessa looked into the owl's eyes, the eyes that had been Nyctimene's, a girl whose feelings she could easily relate to. She felt glad for Nyctimene, that she had been protected and would always remain so. And for once, she didn't imagine herself as an owl or any other form besides her own. Maybe it's not so bad, to be seen, she thought as she floated off to dreams with a tiny smile on her face.

















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