The Barn Owl

Streaks of light beam from the horizon over a forest of deep green trees, the sun radiating the last of its’ warmth and brightest of its’ light for the day. Deep below the horizon and the canopy of branches and greenery, a six week old baby squirrel sits on the ground atop the soft soil and decaying foliage. Barely having opened its’ eyes for the first time two weeks earlier, the squirrel enjoys indulging its’ curiosity of the terrain outside of the nest for the first time. As the young squirrel looks around searching for anything that catches its’ attention, it hears the chirps of other squirrels sounding off from every direction throughout the forest. Suddenly something catches the little squirrels’ eye, a small piece of a broken acorn. Curious, the squirrel excitedly scampers over to it and pokes at it with its’ little paws. After a few moments, the squirrel picks it up and takes a tiny bite of the fibrous substance layering the inside. It happily emits a squeak after the first bight, never having tasted anything like it before yet somehow feeling as if it was an incredibly familiar flavor. The young squirrel gleefully begins nibbling at the remainder of the acorn.

High above the squirrel, on one of the older trees in the forest, there hangs a branch with less than half the foliage of the rest of the branches on the tree and some of the bark chipped off. From a crevice towards the top of this tree an owl leaps out, gliding in a wide circle around the tree stretching its’ wings, having just awoken from its’ regular slumber. Ater circling around the tree a few times, masterfully weaving through the branches, it lands on the branch with the bark chipped off, and a few more little pieces fall from the branch to the ground below. The owl looks around until its’ eyes land on an old, light toned stone arch-bridge about fifteen yards in length. Under the bridge lies a small, natural valley with a little water and mud at the bottom. The bridge is covered in a light layer of dirt, the corners and edges having a little more than the rest. The owl moves its’ gaze from the bridge after it hears leaves moving around the forest, as the evening continues to dim after the sunset.

A woman walking the path through the forest comes to the bridge and begins to cross it. When she reaches the center, she walks over to the side opposite to where the squirrel is, and looks out at the forest. The last rays of sunlight shine through the trees as night fully sets in, and the woman sheds a tear as she looks out at the trees being pushed and pulled by the wind. The feeling of that same breeze brushing against her cheek comforts her somehow. The woman turns around and walks to the other side, fighting back tears she walks. When she arrives at the other side she looks up towards the moon and reaches up to wipe the tears out of her eyes, mouth quivering a little from the breeze cutting through her shirt. “Should have brought a jacket…” the woman thinks to herself.

As the woman’s gaze shifts around, eventually she sees a baby squirrel nibbling on a small piece of acorn. The woman smiles faintly and watches the squirrel delight in its’ meal. After a few moments she continues to look around the forest until her eyes catch some movement up in the trees. She scans the branches intently until she catches a view of a beautiful owl up on a branch of the tallest tree in the area. She looks frightfully down at the baby squirrel and then back up to the owl as her heart begins to beat faster and faster. Suddenly, her phone vibrates quietly in her pocket. The woman ignores it and keeps staring at the owl, nervously anticipating the worst. Several moments pass by as the owl continues looking around the forest, to the woman it feels like an eternity as tears build in her eyes and her heart beats faster and faster, a black hole building both in her gut and her chest. Her phone vibrates again, the woman exhales desperately and looks back down at the squirrel for a moment as she pulls her phone out of her pocket but refuses to look at it just yet.

Finally, the woman opens her phone and sees two messages from her mother. She reads the first, “Baby, please come home.” She looks back up at the squirrel as a tear falls down her cheek, then looks down to read the second message which says, "I know I should have told you, but I was only thinking of your father, I wanted to respect what he wanted. Please, come home." The woman’s hand falls to her side, not even having locked the phone. She looks down at the squirrel again, and her eyebrows furrow and her mouth starts quivering faster and harder than before. From one moment to the other, the tears are pouring down her face. She looks up at the owl through tearful eyes as it leaps into flight once again, causing her heart to sink completely out of her chest. The owl flies through the various trees and branches and suddenly dips a tiny bit downward, the woman’s heart skips every beat for several seconds. Suddenly, the owl curves up and flies quickly above the tree line and in the direction of a nearby red barn, visible from the bridge. The woman seems confused as a few more tears fall down her face and she sniffles through a stuffy nose. She looks down at the baby squirrel, who had just finished its’ meal. The baby squirrel sits there seemingly pondering its’ recent meal, and then proceeds to use its’ little paws to cleans itself. Suddenly, the little squirrel scampers happily back into the forest, and the woman chokes out a laugh as a final tear falls down her cheek. The woman reaches up with one hand and wipes away her tears, and stands there solemnly for a few moments staring out at the forest and eventually shifting her gaze up to view the moon. The woman places her phone back in her pocket, and continues her walk back off the bridge.