Seeds of Change

The trickle of last night's rain melted into the streets of an awakening city.

Reaching for a copper mug of water on the nightstand, I drank it in one gulp. The single arched window in the room was closed and the wooden latch was open. My feet floated against the icy floor. I cracked the window open, casting muted shades of light into the blackness as the cold from the day filled the room.

Outside, grey skies blended into an electric blue sea. My lips felt salty and swollen and I washed my face as a salty breeze enveloped me. Closing my eyes, I immersed myself in the luxury of a fresh breath.

A single line of fishing string in the window fashioned with stones and shells lifted and fell with each gust of wind. Dancing on the edge of the window, something white entangled in the latch caught my eye.

Upon closer look, it was an almost iridescently white, spotted feather. Snow white at its base, speckled with silver and golden and spots at its end, and impossibly soft. With tenderness, I pulled it down, gazing without a sound. I gently rested the feather on a silk tapestry that held a crystal, folded letters and a cup with a single dried sunflower.

It couldn’t be . . .

I pulled on pants and a long dress along with boots and a scarf over my hair. Locking the door behind me, I flew down the spiraling wooden staircase like the birds in my dreams.

Legends of the old city played in my mind. Tales of the white barn owls from the north whose powers were used against their will; they were used to find the large deposits of gold and silver used to build our ancient city. Eventually, those supplies ran dry and the people of the past turned to other materials. The owls are told to have helped those who found refuge in the lush mountains and forests of the south. They spread the seeds of plants from distant lands for us to grow trees and gardens and live in abundance.

For many years the law has forbidden these traditions of peace. The owls are said to return in times of oppression as symbols of freedom. And though not many existed, any human who possessed the gift to communicate with animals had been outcast to the shadows, labeled as dangerous and crazy--or forced to blend in anonymity.

And we have not heard or seen an owl since then.

⇅

I hurried down a corridor through remnants of the old city all the way to its edge, into the Black Forest that hugged the Northern Sea.

The forest was vibrating with life--I followed a lush pathway lined with trees and vines. Despite the times, life was flourishing. Purple and red birds with long tails flew overhead. I reappeared on the other side of the wooded passage and perched myself on top of the rolling hills overlooking the sea. I paused, chewing on a piece of chickweed, transported to days when we had gathered here to watch the stars.

The energy shift was palpable on this land that had once been so sacred; dense energy weighed in the air. Drawing my eyes up to the mountain that is now forbidden, I was almost there.

I saw their glow before I saw them. Balanced on top of Black Mountain, the owls I have only seen in stories and dreams had been captured again. They were held in a large containment without space to fly. Guards in suits stood outside a spider web of metal architecture. Within the tall grey cage, barn owls of every size and color were glowing. As they moved, golden, silver, blue and purple cosmic light emanated from their bodies like auras. Some were sleeping, their bodies gently swaying. Their movements were interconnected, each a dancing ribbon of the same tapestry. Large eyes followed me and hung on to my every move. As their footsteps moved across the bars and their feathers stirred, it sounded like a million leaves rustling.

From my distance, I found myself looking into the eyes of an owl. She held a small baby under her wing. As I stared into her brown eyes I heard a voice in my mind,

‘Talia’.....she knew my name.

Speechless, I stumbled back and a rock slipped from beneath my footing--a guard spotted me.

I disappeared, crouching and clinging to the smooth obsidian mountain as footsteps followed me. I looked below to where the path switched back, about 8 feet down. Holding my breath, I leapt down two more paths before rolling the rest of the way down.

It felt like my dreams where I cannot evade the feeling of falling into darkness.

⇅

Back in the apartment above my mother’s old shop were the last remnants of our old life, our family now lived in the south on a fig and citrus orchard. I ran my hands along the mattress until I found my father’s journal. The cover was almost worn off entirely but I could feel the indentation of what was once an owl on its surface. I opened to a bookmarked page:

We shall not cease from exploration,

and the end of all our exploring

will be to arrive where we started

and know the place for the first time.

T.S. Eliot

I gazed into the foggy mirror that rested on the floor. I could the golden specs and bloodied face in the reflection, but I do not see me.

⇅

At night I returned to the cages, five thousand paces through the darkness. The air was warm, heavy and humid and stars were multiplying overhead. I peered around the corner at the base of the small camp. The containment was not guarded at night by people--but by hybrid dogs. Tonight however, the dogs were so fast asleep they were snoring.

‘It is safe,’ I heard in my mind--my heart skipped a beat.

My thoughts racing, I rested beside the bars of the cage and closed my eyes, smoothing out my dress with my fingers, trying to silence my thoughts. After several minutes, the mother owl approached me. Moonlight danced in her round eyes. Her nails were long and broken, her feathers covered in dirt and she bowed her head to me in greeting.

I pressed my fingers to the cage, ‘I want to help you---’ I blurted out.

She hovered back, startled by my emotion. I waited.

‘Please, tell me how,’ I whispered. I closed my eyes,

‘The metal that bonds and protects this cage cannot be broken.

It can only be dissolved by white gold from the ancient times.’ I heard. I saw a picture, an image in my mind of an ancient place our people have gone in the past to pray. I recognized it.

‘Yes’ she cooed.

I did not hear another word in my mind but I was overwhelmed to tears with the feeling of her gratitude. The breeze took off again and a single feather fell, I leapt to grasp it, holding it in the heart of my hands.

⇅

I took off west through rolling green hills with fields of purple flowers. Dragonflies entranced my path while the sun warmed me to the core. From the rocks, to the trees, to the rivers, the landscape was much larger here, as if expanding to the wide open space. I turned back to gauge how far I had come. The feather illuminated in my hand, emanating a calming blue glow--I walked onward.

The ocean bled into a lagoon of two large mountains uniting in a waterfall. The path ended, leading into round wet stones halfway eroding and sinking into the ocean, toward the waterfall. The sounds of birds were now far overhead. My reflection glistened back to me as the bottom of my dress and pants trailed in the water. The sky opened, darkening as a light rain melted into the heat of my skin. I had reached the place the owl projected in my mind.

In the center of the lagoon was a large, round and flat stone embedded with turquoise, white and clear crystals. On top, rested a small, smooth white stone that had naturally separated from the rest. I picked up the stone and the earth shifted beneath my feet. The rain heavied, submerging my path. I wrapped the stone in a small velvet cloth and tied it around my waist. I turned around as the path disappeared behind me.

Fear welled in my stomach on my return. How could I stand up or do anything compared to what laid before me? If something happened to me, what would happen to my parents and my family?

But they were also my biggest reason to fight . . .

⇅

A guard pulled a cigarette from his pocket and took a long drag, staring into blackness. His back was to the cage and then he turned towards it, gazing upward with gentleness. There was not smugness or confidence in his tired eyes.

He paced back and forth in front of the cage, reorganized his canteens and pulled back his sleeve scratching old war scars. Somenly pulling a square, stone slab from the ground, he unscrewed a valve and disappeared into the darkness.

The owls drifted into a motionless sleep as chemicals that suppressed their abilities pumped into and clouded their cage. I swallowed and gathered my courage. I focused on one goal, if I could just get this stone close enough to cage. . .

I took a deep breath in, lifted my foot---before I could act I felt hands around me. I looked up at the guard’s red face full of anger, losing the feeling in my cheeks. His face transmuted to fear and confusion as he dropped me back down, wordless and ashamed. I grasped for the velvet cloth as it slipped through my fingers, white gold shattering on the rocks, gone forever. I fell to the ground as the vapor from the chemicals dissipated.

A melodic hum birthed from the silence, a song from the owls that filled the atmosphere.

The earth began to tremble. A rumbling ensued, large stones displaced and tumbled down the hills of Black Mountain. Stones falling on one another began to crash and break bars off of the cage. Bolts and chains dislodged. I watched motionless as the cage began to lift upwards with the owl's song. The owls illuminated the air, shimmering as they sang and called in melodic harmonies.

The cage looked as though it was about to burst, ricocheting back and forth and ready to fall to the depths of the Northern Sea. Watching in horror, the guard climbed toward the rubble. He did not look down to the black waves as he worked. His body convulsed in fear and adrenaline. Shakingly, he extended his wrinkled arm and unlatched the metal gates with a skeleton key.

He staggered to stand as the owls flew from the cage, shrieking in joy. He reached his arms out in both directions, cradling the sky as the birds flew free between his reach, their silhouettes blazing against the golden sunset.

Shouting and lanterns from down below drew closer.

‘Run’

I heard, this time outside of my head.

“You have to get out of here, too---they will kill you!” I feel myself shout.

‘I said RUN!’ he snarled.

I did not know how to stay or to go.

‘Thank you,’ I peeped.

As I took off running, I felt like I was flying down the hills to the south. I held my arms out, descending down the hillsides, I could have sworn my feet were not touching the ground.

I looked back at him, neatly seated on a pile of rubble. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to dry his cheeks, watching with dignity as the birds joined the cosmic masterpiece in the sky.