Sofia, Uncle Henry and Peter
SOFIA, UNCLE HENRY AND PETER
MIRI HUNTER
copyright 2021
SOFIA
I am more like Harry Potter than I could ever have imagined. We share the same familiar: a white owl. It lives high up in the salt cedar tree that stands in the southeast corner of my property. It watches me as I rake the leaves from the eucalyptus tree in the northeast corner of my property. It watches me as I paint the ancient picnic table in a color called pinot noir. I never liked the taste of pinot noir, but it makes a nice wood stain color. My owl watches me and my lover, Peter, as we dine in the evenings on that same picnic table under a canopy of a million stars. Its presence became even more apparent when I realized that it would follow me down the dirt road on the evenings that I drove to Peter’s house. The owl was obviously watching out for me or stalking me. I decided to go with the former idea and took to calling him Uncle Henry after one of my great uncles.
