Voles Are Life

Sensing the encroaching darkness of night, the Barn Owl shifted slightly, and saw his dreams of tasty voles disappear before his opening eyes. Wide awake now, he was hungry and curious what became of his world in the last few hours. He stretched his wings and taking flight, he began his nightly inventory. After reaching his usual altitude, he glided silently around the entire farm. He noted the placement of the farm equipment, left where they ended the day's reaping. He wondered if they stirred up the nests of voles, making his hunt easier. He saw the Humans left sheets of cloths to flap in the hot night air. And, what's this? A rivulet of water turning into a nice puddle, from where someone carelessly left the hose running. That will make a nice bath later, after his meal.

Spiraling in tighter and tighter, he continued his nightly surveillance. Until he settled on the barn roof; where he could take in all the details of land he called home. Nothing appeared to be out of place, yet he felt an additional presence had been added. Carefully listening to the night sounds, he expected to hear the stamping noises of the horses, the gentle clucking of the chickens as they settled to roost, and the furtive scurrying of the tasty voles. But, what was this? What was this new sound that began softly and then grew in intensity and volume? Having nothing to compare it to, his curiosity drew him closer to it. But, that meant moving closer to the "human barn". And, whenever he did that, he was attacked by all manner of household goods. No, it would be best to direct his focus on his hunger, and the voles waiting to satiate it.

But, that insistent wail could not be avoided or ignored. Gliding down to an open window, he carefully perched on the sill and peered in. Just as he got a fix on the noise, a blinding light forced his eyes closed. He would have flown away in fright but he couldn't open his eyes to see. So, being as still as a vole in hiding, he waited for darkness again.

Trembling at the high pitched noise, the blinding light, and the fear of being discovered, all the Barn Owl could do is curse his curious nature, and wait for a chance to escape to the safety of his barn. His ears still heard, though. He could do nothing to shut out the noise, so he listened to it, to learn from it. It was easy to pick it from the other noises; the soft cooing of one of the Humans, and the patter of feet as they paced the room. This new noise was distinct and powerful. It commanded attention and careful consideration. The Barn Owl would have given a hundred voles to the maker of the noise if that is what it wanted. Did it? His hunger forgotten, all the Barn Owl wanted was to appease this noisy new thing that invaded his peaceful farm. Should he risk opening his eyes, and resuming his hunt? Or, is it best to wait until all was quiet again?

As he debated the pros and cons of opening his eyes, the noise began to subside. First, it was a sniffling. Then a muffled snuffing. Finally, silence; all but the cooing sounds coming from the Human. He dared a slit-eyed peek into the room. What was It holding? Whatever it was the Human didn't mind that only moments before, it was making threatening sounds. Nor, did It mind that all of a sudden it was silent again.

The Barn Owl turned his attention back to the bundle in the Human's arms and yearned for a closer look. The radiant joy emanating from the Human was all it took to convince the Barn Owl that all was well. But, it did nothing to explain what made the noise, and why it made the Human so happy when it stopped. Curiosity is a powerful thing. But, self-preservation is even more powerful. The Barn Owl knew his world was changing, though he didn't know how or why. His love for life, and all the wonders in it, inspired him to abandon curiosity over this new thing; knowing no matter what, his life will continue to bring more to wonder about if he stayed alive.

The light went out. All is quiet again. The noisemaker is silent, contented, and full; presumably of voles. With that realization came the return of his forgotten hunger. The Barn Owl, being wise beyond his own expectations knew this new thing, this noisemaker, was now a permanent part of his world. He accepted this as fact as he did of the farm equipment, and the puddle of water, the other farm animals, and the appearance of the Sun a few hours. And, with that reminder, he lifted into the night sky, in search of a tasty vole.