The Odd Bird

Every heart can be easily touched by the right song. Even the hearts we least expect. For one little beating heart, it came from the song of an unusual creature.

In the highest point of an old mansion lived an owl. He nested within the broken gable vent that faced the back of the dusty estate. For him, every evening was the same. The moment the sun kissed the trees to the West, he was woken by the most beautiful bird song he had ever heard. His sensitive ears would thrum to the call, and he would sway himself awake as the blissful harmonics echoed all the way down to his tail feathers. The song was rarely the same each evening, but always beautifully haunting as it welcomed the starry sky above.

Each night, the owl would leave his nest in search of this magnificent bird. He would circle the home, scouring the landscape as he listened for this feathered siren. Unable to find the mysterious creature along the scalloped rooftop, he would search the trees and the surrounding fields.

But the night would always end the same. The song would always stop just as he felt he was getting close to finding it. Once the song stopped, he continued on with his nightly routine, and as the blue of the morning began to brighten the landscape, he would return to his gable to tuck himself in and sleep.

After his search night after night began to yield the same results, the owl decided that he was going to wake before this mysterious bird could begin its song on the next dusk. He would wait outside, listening carefully from somewhere he could see all around him. He chose a low ornamental tree next to the house; somewhere he always heard the song the loudest.

The owl woke to a watercolor sunset directly ahead of him, pastel clouds casting a vivid golden glow on his smoky gray feathers. He left his roost, soaring down to the ornamental tree to wait for the evening song to begin. He felt his heart racing in his chest. Something told him tonight would be the night. Was this bird ethereal in features? Long, draping feathers that glowed in rose-tinted hues? Or was it a petite plump thing with unnaturally vivid plumage that danced in the evening wind? He could not wait to see!

His thoughts were interrupted by the click and groans of two large doors. His head spun towards the sound to see an elderly human, her eyes gentle as she looked out over the hills. She smiled warmly at the view of the sunset against the shadowed trees, then turned back into her home. Curious, the owl danced his way across the branch until he could get a view of the woman inside through the large parlor windows.

She stepped in front of the strangest being the owl had ever seen. It was boxy with black and white teeth, its body dark but glistened like it was made of water. His head tilted to the side as he watched her tuck her yellow skirts and take a seat in front of it. She fixed her hair, stretched her back, and laid her fingers against this animal’s long teeth. With a deep breath, she began to caress this creature with gentle, flowing strokes of her aged hands. Chills ran through the owl in a way that fluffed every feather on his body.

The box was the one that made the song! It wasn’t a bird at all! He sat entranced by what he witnessed, then cozied onto the branch. He closed his eyes and swayed with the music, relief pouring over him as he finally found his siren. His facial feathers bristled and he cooed to try to sing along since he knew the tune this happy beast made. But as his gentle voice caught the woman’s ears, she silenced her friend and looked outside. His eyes opened only to find the elderly woman staring right at him. He froze, unsure of what to do. She warbled what felt like a greeting, her smile holding that same warmth as when she saw the sunset. She continued to make strange noises, but to the owl, her tone was not nearly as beautiful as the box. He debated on leaving, however no sooner had he begun to spread his wings did the elderly woman begin to pet her musical creature again.

He relaxed, but he watched her carefully. Her eyes never left his while she pet the unusual creature, and suddenly he felt his entire body melt into the song once more. The woman warbled again then looked back to the glossy creature she petted ever so gently, the song growing even more beautiful than anything he had ever heard before.

As dusk faded to night, it appeared that the old woman had grown tired. She stood from the bench, slowly heading to the doors. She uttered something tiredly pleasant to the owl, and he watched as she shut herself into the room. The lights dimmed, leaving him to sit in the tree alone.

After that first night, the owl came to listen to the woman play her enchanted beast every evening. He grew to love her and trust her, making sure to announce his presence to her as he arrived in the ornamental tree. Her friend played the most amazing songs when they knew he was there, music that made him sway along and feel as if nothing else existed. He came to find that the sounds the old woman made along with the music was her own attempt to sing along with the box, and she would always seem to puff with delight whenever he joined her.

This went on for several years until one night, the owl flew down to the ornamental tree, prepared to see his friend. He waited patiently, his eyes on the doors, but as the stars began to blink into the sky and the last rays of the sun dimmed behind the trees, the old woman never came to greet him. He sat there in lonely confusion, head tilting this way and that. He felt his heart begin to race in worry, and he flew down to the stone patio, carefully hopping over to the door to peer through the glass.

The room was completely dark, the only light visible coming from the last remaining blue hues of the twilight.

Where was the elderly woman? She was always there! She always said hello to him! Perhaps she was not feeling well? With a heavy sigh, the owl turned and flew off into the night. He would try again the next evening.

Dusk after dusk he returned, finding the same empty room with no lights and no friend. The enchanted beast stayed abandoned, and the owl found himself growing more disappointed every night. Eventually he stopped trying. The elderly woman was gone.

As the days grew shorter and colder as winter made its presence known, the owl found himself missing the warmth of the woman and her pet even more. He missed the human who had tamed this creature. He missed the alluring way her hands stroked the wooden beast to create songs that spoke to his very soul.

One particularly vivid evening, he decided to pay a visit to the ornamental tree now barren of leaves. He sat in silence, staring at the box from the parlor window. He tried to imagine the old songs, closing his eyes and raising his feathers at the memory of the haunting lullabies. He swayed along in the silence until the memories began to fade. His eyes opened once again to a dark, empty room.

There was one difference, though. He noticed at the top of the large parlor window, one of the panes was open. Curiosity struck him and he sized up the opening. Could he.... Could he get through there? He opted to try, taking flight and tucking just at the right moment to find himself landing on top of a shelf.

His feet slid against the slippery surface, forcing him to use his wings to prop himself up while one foot continued to refuse traction. His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing quick while anxiety screamed at him to leave this place. But as he continued to observe, he realized he was alone. Alone with so many strange objects, including the enchanted beast.

With a stubborn shake of his entire body and losing one rebellious downy fluff of a feather, he flew down to land on the bench where the elderly woman always sat. He looked up at the enchanted beast, amazed at how big it actually was up close. He noticed the white teeth that seemed to glow in the winter moonlight, intimidating yet beautiful. With a careful hop, he landed on the lip of the creature, looking over the teeth.

This was it. He could finally hear the amazing songs again! He could keep his memory of his dear friend alive!

Using his wings to balance, he stretched one foot out to touch the teeth, but was stunned by the terrifying sound that was made in response. He fluttered backwards, landing on the floor and staring up at the beast. No! This creature would not roar at him! Not after he had spent so much time alone. The owl hissed and fluttered back up onto the animal’s lip, using his talons to press the teeth again. Again, the beast made a terrible noise, but the owl was determined. He stood tall, slapping the beast with his wing, only to hear an even more terrifying sound.

What was wrong with his friend? Was it mourning just like he was? He looked the teeth up and down, relaxing as he realized this creature was indeed sad. It was cold and dusty from neglect. This being missed the old woman just like he did. He carefully tried to touch the teeth again with tender care, but still the song did not come. Disheartened, the owl hopped back down onto the bench and looked up at the beast. Perhaps he had been too hopeful. The enchanted beast did not want to perform for anyone but the old woman who was always so gentle with it.

With a defeated coo, the owl wished his mysterious friend well then flew through the small open window to return outside, gliding off into the night.

The days began to blur together as a new routine began to take hold of the owl. Silent sunsets were his new comfort, taking in the beauty that the last rays of the sun had to offer every day. He began to sing his own songs from the trees, but found his hoots and trills to not be nearly as endearing as the enchanted beast that sat silent behind the giant window of their home.

Winter turned to Spring and welcomed the budding of sweet aromas in the air that seemed to fill the owl with new life. He sat at the entrance of the open gable, watching out over the fields as the golden hour once again cast a glow against his gray feathers, and as he spread his wings to prepare to leave for the night, he stopped in pure surprise.

It couldn’t be! He heard the enchanted beast! It was singing!

He quickly took flight to land on the flowery ornamental tree, peering into the parlor window to see what made his friend so happy, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. A young human dressed in white frills and lovely pinks pet the enchanted beast while her parents watched on happily. The young human seemed pleased, smiling brightly in a way that reminded him of the old woman from before.

The owl fluffed in excitement, finding himself swaying along with the music once again. His heart beat along with the enchanted box, his eyes closed, and his body relaxed. He had missed this. He had missed the sound of his strange friend’s happiness.

And he would be forever grateful to this small human for bringing joy to both of them again.