The Whisper Of An Owl

In the dark of the night, feathers ruffle as they rub against a tree branch. A large Barn Owl moves around, watching the ground. Here deep in the woods, only the creatures live and make their home. All the animals can feel it when the weather is changing. Things in the air signal it's time to hunt to eat; hard times lie ahead.

Tonight the air feels different wet, heavy, with a chill. This chill is a sure sign that deep snow is about to happen. The bird sits observing. Darkness isn't a barrier. It's a welcomed tool the bird uses frequently. It sits and watches, moving to change angles to get the best view, silently changing positions as not to give away its position.

In the distance, a house sits near the top of the mountain. Two windows are lit, and the figure moves from side to side inside the house. "The book says I need the feather of an Owl. I hope this spell works. It has to work. If it doesn't, everything will fall apart." He stands there looking around and peeks out the window, "I wonder where I could find an Owl?" Then a clap of thunder in December. He says out loud, "That's not good. I better get firewood for tonight and tomorrow." He dashes outside and grabs a wheel barrel, and loading it full of wood as fast as he can, he races back into the house. He chucks the logs into the corner and stacks them neatly simultaneously. Then he dashes back outside for a second wheel barrel full and a third and a fourth. He stands in the doorway admiring his work. Sweat beads are running down his forehead.

Outside out of nowhere, "Hoot hoot," He freezes and says, "That can't be." again, from outside, "Hoot Hoot." He says, "Well, how about that?" He walks out, and from the sky, one feather falls, landing in the yard right in front of him. "Well, how about that." Picking up the feather, he carefully observes it. Its' fully intact and precisely what he needs. He dashed to his work area.

A large area devoted to artwork, magic, stones, crystals, statues, synchronicity lay strewn about the room. He says, "Ok, where is that crystal?" talking to himself. "Ah, here it is." Grasping it holding it up. "Now, where is that stick? Now, to put them together to make them work." He places the stick on the table, glues the crystal to the shaft, then sets his finest leather at the base of the post. Then he searches for twine. A lovely black cord will work perfectly for this handle. He then places the glue on the leather and wraps the leather around the wand's handle. Then wraps the twine around the lather in a tidy pattern placing the feather at the top of the handle pointing toward the crystal. "That should hold nicely." He puts the wand in the window while the glue sets.

Again the thunder cracks and notices outside that the snow has started to come down. "This is going to be deep snow." The whole house vibrates as the thunder rolls across the sky. "Thunder Snow, that's unheard of." He sits down and "Now where was that spell?" Searching through parchments, several falls onto the floor. He stands there, "Well, that's a fine mess." Again, thunder rolls across the sky. He walks over to the window and watches the snow pour down. He leans against the cobblestone walls. Placing his hands in the window seal to stabilize himself while he looks out. "Strange." Murmuring out loud. Faintly he can see the image of a large bird landing on the ground. Then taking off quickly, "Could that be my friend that gave me feather? God speed, my friend."

He turns around to see the parchments scatter about, "I guess I will have to read all these to find the right one." He gathers them up. He walks into the living room, a glow from the fireplace. Something happens to houses when there are deep snows, things pop and crack, sound becomes muffled, noises you could typically hear become dampened. He opens the parchments. "Latin, why would everything be written in Latin?" he questions aloud." Sitting at his table, he begins to craft a wand. Prior he had found a stick, long firm and weathered just right. He placed it on the table. "Hmm, now, which of you beautiful crystals wants to become united with magic?" Questioning out loud. Grabs a handful of crystals he had stored near the work area. He lifts his hand holding it over the stones, "Which one wants to be united with the wand?" Quietly he meditates while waving his hand back and forth over the stones.

"Talk to me, my friends. Let me feel your answer." He continues to wave his hand, narrowing his wave. "Looks like you will be the one." Finding a brilliant crystal with a tiny bird inside. It's said at times, in certain lights, you can see the spirit's face inside the crystal. Tonight he twists the crystals to find a face. To his surprise, it's the face of a queen. "Well, hello my lady, how are you?" He questions her. No answer is evident at the time. He adds, "I shall handle a Queen such as yourself with the ultimate care."

Outside, the snow deepens the Owl turns its attention to the house. It flies to a large oak to watch the man moving about crafting the wand. It creates a small spot to stand under a tree limb out of the snow yet still see. The man moves about, hovering over a stick and a crystal. Now the Owl can see a piece of leather and one of its feathers. Curiously, the Owl watches as the man finds twine, glues the crystal to the stick, and then places leather around the base, making a handle for what is now a wand. He then glues the feather to the base of the wand. He walks over to a book. The Owl shifts its position to see. The man says words unheard by humans for centuries. Then a puff of smoke arises from the fire. The Owl becomes frightened and watches the man as his nose bleeds, and the Owl flies off. Therein, leaving one drop of bright red blood in the snow where the Owl had been sitting.

Inside the house, the man sits down, wiping a few drops of blood from his nose. "Well, that was quick. Now, my Queen, you and I shall sleep together for the next Thirty days." He dresses for bed that night and lays the wand down on the bed. He banks the fire and gets into bed. The wind kicks up, blowing snow howling in the night. He covers himself up and watches the snowfall out the tiny window. The silence of the night is incredible. He drifts off to sleep. That's when dreams of magical beasts, and having found the Queen's crystal, surely she would grant me charge over these fantastic creatures and even her army. In his dream, he grew famous, entertaining great leaders of nations around the world, all for the favor of his Queen. Any foe that would rise against his Queen would merely raise the wand, and they would fade to dust immediately. Then he is awakened. The air in the room is bitter cold. He promptly gets up and builds a fire. He glances at the wand. The Queen is not visible today.

Outside, the Owl hides the snow still bears down on the mountain. It can hear something moving under the snow. In a dash, the Owl has breakfast. The Owl retreats to sleep the day away, cleaning its beak and finding a warm spot away from the bitter wind.

Inside, the house begins to warm he once again resorts to his scrolls. Placing them on the table one at a time, "Which one had that spell?" Talking aloud. Opening the scrolls carefully, he looks inside and begins to read. A blue light appears in the room and begins to circle the room. "Nope, that's not it." Opening another, a bright orange mist appears and envelops the space in the opposite direction knocking things over. "No, that's not it either. Finally, he opens the last scroll, and a green light appears. This time the floor lights up, and wood comes to life and begins to grow. "No, that's not either. Where did I put that scroll?" He walks around for a time. Then he decides to make something hot to drink.

He goes to the sink and runs a kettle full of ice-cold water. Places it on the stove, then turned on the burner and assembled his drink. Cinnamon, Honey, Turmeric, Vanilla, Ginger, Apple Cider Vinegar will do nicely. He mixes the concoction with precision. Sipping it, he walks into the back area, working on his latest project. The Radio Blairs "Alert Bulletin: This is not a warning, severe weather warning has been issued for our room for the next seventy-two hours. Snow squalls and additional totals of up to two feet of additional snow may fall during this time."Well, it sounds like I'm about to be snowed in."

He sits reflecting about his childhood and loving deep snows. "I should plan on shoveling the snow off the roof." He walks to the garage, the oldest part of the house. He looks carefully for his ladder. Then out of the corner of his eye, a movement. Not a human or a creature but a shadow moving fast. "Hmm." He murmurs. Then turns and walks back into the main section of the house. "I can't wait until I can remodel that mess of a room." He feels a breeze as he walks through the house. He stops and looks around. "I closed that door. I'm sure of it." Going back to check. He looks carefully at the door. "It's locked, closed tight." He turns and walks back through the house. The smell of the most beautiful flowers he ever smelled occurs.

"That's different and very pleasant. I wonder what that smell is?" He walks back into his work area. "My Queen, is that you walking around with that beautiful perfume? "No answer, I see." He laughs. He returns to his work. Hours later, he looks up and watches the snow falling. "Hypnotic." Its beauty is astounding. Outside the window, a large bird flies off at the edge of the woods. "Wow! that was neat. I didn't see it there." He places a wood stick on the fire and goes back to work. Behind him, there is a rustling. He turns quickly only to see a shadow move out of sight. Dismissing it as nothing, he goes back to work. "I will draw and conjure." HA, laughing out loud. Finally, as the night wears on, he finishes his project, turns the lights out, and gets in bed. "My Queen, here I come."

A large tree stands just outside his window, and in that window, a Barn Owl sits watching. He sees the man getting in bed and watches the fire flicker. The Owl notices a different shadow that doesn't belong there and becomes frightened and flies off. The shadow then disappears as well. In the bed, the man begins to toss and turn. Waking up walking to the kitchen, peeked out the window, got a drink, and then walked back to bed. He sits there for a while then falls asleep while sitting up.

Then as if there were a ripple in a pond, a wave happens, not a wave-like radio wave but more matter itself moving up and down as water particles do in the ocean. Then the earth begins to shake as if there were a small earthquake. He wakes briefly. Seeing nothing is there, he goes back to sleep.

As he falls into deep sleep scenes, appear before his eyes crisp, clear visions of landscapes so beautiful he could feel the cold air and hear the wind blow. All of which he had different lives. In each life, he had desires, things he wanted to do. He knew there were so many things he wanted to experience he didn't have enough time to do them all in one lifetime. In each life, he became the most exceptional at whatever he desired. He flipped through his energies. Amazed and enchanted by his success in those lives, he looked at his own life and became sad. Then became a vapor and woke up. "Wow, what a dream."

Feeling energized, he jumps out of bed and decides to paint pictures. He grabs his brushes, paint, and canvas. He clears the table where he had crafted the wand and begins to paint and draw--Inspired like no other time in his life. Outside, the snow came down deeper and deeper. The snow didn't bother the man because he was so focused. He painted beautifully colorful winter scenes. The first was a painting of a house by a lake, another of a majestic mountain, and yet another of two trees in the snow then he sat down. He was, exhausted but satisfied. "I think I will draw tomorrow."

That night he goes to bed, laying his wand he crafted beside him, "My Queen. I painted a house by the lake, a majestic mountain, and a beautiful colorful winter scene for you today." He quietly fell asleep. That night, he dreamed of creating beautiful hand-drawn artwork. He drew for with ease in his dreams. That morning he woke to be fully inspired. He again cleared his table and began to draw. This time take several days to draw. Taking several days to work out each detail, he would stop, put the artwork away and come back to it later to return inspired.

The Owl sat outside the window watching the man craft these beautiful artworks and was swept away by his devotion. The Owls feather being a part of the wand allowed it to feel what the man was doing at times. The Owl then flies to the deepest part of the mountains, where a witch lives. The Owl whispered to her, "I want to become a beautiful woman." The witch taken back by this request says, "I can do this, but it will come at a grave cost." You will have to do a lot of tasks. These will not be easy tasks. The Owl sits for a moment. "Ok, I want to do this." Then you must bring me these things. 1. Fairy's wing. 2. Lock a child's hair. 3. A teaspoon of pond water. 4. Three dead frogs. 5. A golden crystal. 6. A nugget of Gold. 7. Six willow twigs tied in a knot. The Owl looks over the list carefully and says, "Wow, that is a huge list." When do I have to have all of these done? She says, "Within twenty-four hours." The Owl shouts! "That is not fair!" The witch answers and says, "I never said it would be fair." Then the witch disappears in a puff of smoke, taking the list with her. The Owl sets off to fulfill the list.

The man labored hard over his artwork, drawing creating beautiful artworks. He was inspired; having never been this inspired and focused before, he was thrilled. Turning out picture after picture until he needed to stop and get some sleep. He collapsed into the bed and said, "My Queen, I drew these amazing drawings today." Then quietly fell asleep.

That night the Owl worked hard at finding the items on the list. The fairy wing was first. "Where will I find a Fairy in a snowstorm?" The Owl hunts passing by children making a snowman in the yard. She swoops down and snatches a tiny clasp of hair, scaring the children --next, a teaspoon of pond water, which was by far the easiest. Only the ponds were all frozen over. The Owl searched diligently finally, coming to a pond where she could find enough water to make a teaspoon. Three dead frogs were. Next, she knew where to find frogs at the market. She swoops in where the people are cooking and steals three dead frogs. She lands in a Willow Tree, plucks six twigs from the tree, and takes them back. She sees two men walking and something Gold around his neck, diving in and stealing it from him. She says, "The Fairies Wing, where will I find that?" She sits on her perch outside the window where the man lives and watches him sleep.

The sun rises, and the man gets up and begins to move around. Then, two Crows appear, "Why are you here in the daytime?" The Owl says, "I am waiting to find a Fairy's wing." The Crows look at each other, and one says, "But it's Winter Fairies hibernate at this time of year." The Owl says, "That's less than favorable news." The other Crow says, "Why would you need a Fairy?" The Owl says, "I need its wing." The Crow says, "But that's instant death for a Fairy." Shocked by this announcement, the Owl says, "I didn't know that. It doesn't matter; I still need the wing." Then grunts looking away. The Crows both say, "This sounds like the work of the witch. You are not in a deal with the witch, are you?" The Owl says, "Who me?" "Um, No." Denying allegiance. "Oh, you are in a deal with the witch." The Crow says. "You can't trust her!" "Well, it's too late the deed is done." The Crow wants to help, "Did the Fairy have to be alive, or real?" The Owl says, "I don't know she didn't say." Try a plastic one. There's plenty of them around. The Owls heart leaps with joy! "I will!" The Owl flies off to the back porch of the young girl she stole the locket of hair from, and there is a plastic fairy. She plucks the wing off the fairy and flies off. She is taking her prize back to the area where she stored the rest of the items. She then goes to the witch. "I have your list." Shocked by this announcement, the witch says, "You do!"

"Let me see what you have, dear." The Owl places each item out for the witch to inspect. "Yes, Yes, that will do nicely." The witch looks at her watch. She gets down to the last item, which is the first item, the fairy wing. "Is that a real wing?" The Owl says, "You never said it had to be real, so I don't think so." The witch looks at the Owl and says, "That won't work." She adds, "It has to be real for it to work." The Owl says, "What happens now?" The witch says, "I don't know. I never had anyone get this far before."

The man lays in the bed that night, swept away into a dream of a beautiful house by a lake, where he could fish, live in peace and enjoy the love of his life, his wife. They worked together, did everything together. Finally, growing old and dying together on the same day. The man wakes that morning jarred but happy. He returns to his artwork and painting.

He was again working into the night. Then in the night, he decides to go to bed and dreams of the second picture. He was an artist living at the foot of the mountain, raising sheep on the majestic mountain. He and his wife lived long raising children off the mountain, where he also painted pictures of the hill, sold them to passers-by, and became famous. He and his wife also died on the same day. Again he wakes up jarred but extremely happy and touched by this dream.

On the third day, the man works diligently drawing, and painting and again falls asleep on the bed. He lays there tossing and turning. He can feel the cold air, the deep snow, and the one feels completely different, more natural than before. "This is strange. This type of realism is so different. I can feel how cold this snow is, and it hurts my feet." He starts to shiver and shake. "Why is this happening? This realism isn't like the other dreams." He stammered. Fearful that he was suddenly in a nightmare. Then he hears a familiar voice, a deep voice but one of someone he knows. He looks around for that voice, to find it was his friend but moreover his wife's face in all his other lives but a man's form this time. Filled with gratitude, he struggled for a moment and then realized he still loved that same soul. This time he carried him to safety, they worked as a team and lived their lives in harmony, and they, like the others, died on the same day. He awakens and feels heart sick but happy. He goes to work drawing again that day. This time his emotions get the best of him.

"I am tired. I want out!" He exclaims. "I am sick of this painful cycle of life and death! Why do we have to die!" He collapses in grief. He places his hand on the wand. In the light, he could see the Queen's face. "My Queen, I am so tired of this cycle of life and death." In a whisper, she says, "I hear your wish."

Days later, the snowplows come and help everyone get out. The man, however, is nowhere to be found. His home was placed up for auction. The new owners found amazing artworks as if nothing had been touched. It was like he had simply walked off the pages of time, except for this one stone found in the floor. He was never seen again. The Owl, however, is seen regularly peeking into the window, scaring the new homeowners.

One afternoon, on a snowy day, the Owl sitting on her perch watches the youngest child of the new occupant's hand a bizarre-looking pebble to his mother. "Look, mom, it has a face in it." The child's mother says, "Oh, it does have a face in it. The Owl peered in for a closer look. To the Owl's horror, it was the face of the man she once loved in stone.

The End.