The Magical Barn Owl - A Short Story of Patience

As I walked Bonnie down the long drive from Hardwick Hall back to the village of Rowthorne, a white flash caught my eye on the horizon.

It was golden hour. The tree lined avenue had become awash with golden glimmers through the brittle and baron trees. The fresh spring branches providing a dramatic silhouette to our short walk back to the car.

I stopped, just to double check it wasn’t a pigeon, and gasped. It was a barn owl. Hunting. Swooping. Ducking and diving. “I haven’t seen a sight like this in years,” I thought. Infact I couldn’t ever recall seeing a barn owl so close actually hunting infront of my eyes. I was frozen to the spot.

Bonnie, however, was considering her next move against the squirrel playing chicken with his nuts…

It was 1st March. The new moon in Pisces had just passed, a new moon that promised magic in the mundane. The day before as I had been driving to Ripley, I was treated to the most spectacular sunset across the Derbyshire Dales. It was like something out of a renaissance painting. The only thing that was missing was Venus rising from her clam shell, her long hair trailing and blending with the reddness of the sky.

“I guess magic really is everywhere you look, you just have to adjust your eyes to see it,” my brain quipped.

As I stopped and watched the Barn Owl, I was struck by two things.

Firstly, how everyone within a 500 yard radius had also become mesmerised. Matt, Myself and Bonnie. An older couple grappling with the mud. A father and daughter on their afternoon stroll, and what looked like a farmer with his two stalking collies.

It was as if the barn owl had captivated us all, sprinkling us with her magic as her wings glided, a spell cast over the land for just a few moments. “When was the last time that happened?” I thought to myself.

And the second thing that struck me, was how persistent and patient this Queen of the treetops was. Strike, after strike, after strike. I can feel the pulse of the poor harvest mouse’s heartbeat even as I type this. Curiously, I pulled the wheel of fortune card earlier too from the Oak, Ash and Thorn Deck. It showed a barn owl dangling a harvest mouse into its web… the gorgeous artwork predicting the very sight now infront of me in more humorous form.

This encounter was more than just a replaying though. It was a message.

This owl wasn’t giving up. It kept going back. It didn’t matter if it struck once, twice, twenty times. It wasn’t giving up until it got what it wanted. I guess it needed to eat, afterall. But what a beautiful lesson in a world so obsessed with quick wins.

The only thing that puts food on the table for this barn owl, is practice, patience and persistence.