16 June – Barn owl addict

The first time I saw one for real,
it perched on my shoulder.
I was transfixed.
So proud.
The photo still projects
that inner moment out
and makes me smile
a mirror image back
to my smaller self
some three decades on.
It felt so wild,
I remember the thrill,
even though now
I know the same engineered touch as tame.
But all the more special,
my history here,
when I come less close,
but seem more close,
in those wondrous moments
of chance encounter.
A penetrating stare,
a back garden pass,
a maybe glimpse in the field.
Low flight in moor’s dusk light
as I drive by in twilight,
soft landing on ruined tree.
I’ll never see them enough
to get over their singular rush
every time they grace my world.

Artwork by Barbarah Macnish