Praying for Owls & Other Loved Ones

On another breathtaking evening walk down the road, the dog and I spotted the creature who'd been making a ruckus for the past two nights. T'was an owl.

It was too far away for my aging eyes to discern its type, but the bird seemed about two-feet in length. It stared back at us, perched on a tree branch, squawking every minute or so. It's feathers were ruffled, and I wondered if it was a youngster crying out for food from a hunting parent. Perhaps the bird's disheveled state was due to its being wounded, from battling a snake or a hapless encounter with some other creature. Maybe he was just messed up from partyin with a girl owl.

As I do -- and always outside earshot of my neighbors -- I spoke to the creature, quietly, with as much warmth as I could muster without feeling like a complete eyelash-batting airhead. I mean, I know they don't understand me, and I'm keen on the fact that the main reason animals sit as if listening to me is because they're sizing up whether or not they need to split the scene fast or lunge in my direction. I get that. I still talk to them. It's for me.

Eventually, I had to leave so the creature who's truly dependent on me could get his exercise, smell the wild scents, and otherwise feel like there's more to life than a bowl of kibble and our front porch.

So to help me separate from the owl -- something I have a hard time doing, ya see -- I uttered a prayer.

I've been praying a lot lately out here.

A staunch agnostic, I don't often pray to a deity, but sometimes I do. Can't hurt. Like The Editor says, it's all magic. I ain't scared o' magic.

I'm clear, even in the midst of prayer, that this is an activity I do for me. Sorta like talkin to animals. Whether or not my utterance has any impact at all on the world, and specifically on the loved one in mind... that ain't up to me.

If there's anything I'm very clear on, it's that I am not god. Happily. It's all I can do to raise a kid and a few pets and plants. The rest ain't on my shoulders, mercifully.

But if there is a god -- and as a devout agnostic, the only thing I really believe is that anything is possible -- I toss my two cents up there now and then in hopes that the magic works. For the owl. For my loved ones. For folks I don't know. When I can't be around to nurture in person, I figure it's the least I can do. Often, even when I'm around, it's all I can do.

Then I can go on my way.

Comments

[Christopher Jones]

"Like The Editor says, it's all magic."

"...the only thing I really believe is that anything is possible."

These words here, I like them, and I, too, believe that they're true. We miss you. Give a holler and a hug to The Editor for us, too.

[Tracy Morris]

I miss you guys, too.
Think it's safe for me to say so does The Editor.
<3