hadn’t been out there in way too long. my eyes were on the sky, its big orange autumn sun and the migrating masses circling down for the night. clyde’s eyes were on his video game and, of course, i was driving way too fast to be doing any respectable nature watching. there was no way to take it all in as we raced through the golden hour, trying to beat the clock against sundown. but this is how i’ve become, who i am these days and maybe who i’ve always been, constantly trying to take in as much as i can before another day is gone and then always feeling like i’ll never get enough, which, by design, makes it so.
and that’s when his tawny brown wings unfurled and lifted out of the brush. the barn owl. his wings stretched out and began to beat slowly. so slowly, in fact, it felt like slow motion. and there we were. him flying alongside me driving in a beautifully timed parallel. his body and his wingbeats framed perfectly out my rolled-down window. his moon face occasionally facing my face. eye to eye and it didn’t stop. we kept flying together into the sun. watching ahead, watching each other in between.
of course, i was screaming. the owl was flying silently, but i was screaming OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHHHHHMYGOD. his open face, my open mouth screaming. clyde was asking me why i was cussing. (i didn’t even know i was.) our moment. it felt like forever. and then it was over.
but you must know. i must tell you that it will certainly never be over. not for me anyway. not ever. pure wowl.
(snapped these photos while we flew, but in my excitement, had flipped the dial to manual. oh well. i still love them)
tahoe pictures from our last week of summer vacation because i’m currently trying not to drown in the autumn crunch of homework, soccer, baseball, and, you know, life, and because i haven’t taken any new pictures in a few weeks, which makes cranky. so anyway, these make me feel good.
really want the entire curiosity shoppe collection at target. yep.
seriously smitten with samantha b’s photos at season & story.
this is taken beneath the tree, in its hidden place, beneath its drooping branches, which flutter like skirts, ruffles, long, long eyelashes. which hang like drapes, tired eyelids, curtains that fall down after the show.
this tree, its trunk and limbs are covered in carvings, names, scars, secrets as far up as the eye can see.
the brooklyn botanic garden is one of the most beautiful places i’ve ever been. and this woman, she was reading. her phone.
is there anything better than a day when your eyes open up to something new? no, not to a destination where you’ve never been but, instead, to that inside place you’ve always known. after carrying it around all these years, you thought you had it tapped. you’ve held it up and inspected it from all sides, in the the light of every hour of every kind of day, and surely you had it all figured out: its arithmetic, its punctuation, its hues within the color wheel.
but then, just like that that … that old familiar thing gets flipped, and suddenly it’s not at all the shameful, scary thing you thought it was. in fact, it’s totally brand new.
and then holy hell, so are you.