To Find Peace. An Owl's Story.

High up in some softer white bark trees, in a little forest area, a soft rustling noise caught the attention of one smaller looking barn owl. The slowly setting sun's light filtered through the leaves in the trees, reaching her eyes and disturbing her slumber. The forest was still, as this was the time when the day creatures startled to settle down, but most of the night creatures had yet to arise. Like the typical owl, she was nocturnal, but she was not a common barn owl, no. A very long time ago, she was stolen from her home, from warm islands far away from where she was now.

The plump and delicious little rodents she used to regularly consume were a thing of the past now. More often than not, nowadays she just found herself getting by on little soft scaled creatures, lizards and the like. They were not her favorite, but food was food. She missed her home, and often still thought about all of the trees she enjoyed hiding in, and the regular smell of the salty sea water that would rush up and crash against the cliffs of the islands. The warm islands were the best home, even during storms, when cold rain would pelt her as she flew around in search of a good place to escape the cold. Under a thick canopy of tropical leaves, that was where she felt most at home. Here, it would regularly become bitterly cold, and there were even times when the world around her became blanketed in freezing white.

For the most part, her small mottled brown body blended in well with the forest's trees. The only part of her that really stood out, was her face, it was as large and as white as the moon itself, daunting, but beautiful. Set perfectly in her cloud white face were her two large black eyes, that were as dark as her face was light. She looked more like her father than her mother, he was what humans called "a common barn owl". Pfft! There was nothing common about her father! He was mighty, and could hunt and catch two, sometimes even three scampering meals in a single swoop!

With his golden brown and white wings, and pure white-faced, the locals of the islands, admired him, having never seen such an owl before. To them, he was anything but common, he was their lucky owl. Caught up in a storm that pulled him from his home in the woods on a cliff, he flew as long as he could over the raging seas before he finally landed on one of the human ships that regularly visited the island. After his arrival there had not been any more severely devastating storms, and even though it was purely coincidence, the locals had great respect for their owl of fortune. She missed her father, her mother, her siblings, and her home, but she was here now, and she had no idea how to get back.

She was patient as she fluffed up her lightly speckled chest, and tilted her head, listening again for the noise. There was that rustling sound again, and as she turned her head to better see, she spotted a daring little movement in the dark. She took her shot, she spread her wings, and soared down between the few trees that she called her home at the edge of the small dark forest. She screamed as she swooped down, causing the terrified little rodent to run, making a mad dive back into the safety of the little borrow that they called home. Too late, she sank her talons into the the pudgy little ground mole.

After a few flaps, she was out of the forest, the sun had set and night was officially upon the land. She swept over the grassy knoll with her delicious meal in her claws, it was a meatier meal, and it had been a while since she felt so satisfied. With the energy she had, she would go to a place where she knew there was always food, but to get to it, she would have to fly near a mostly clear egg-like building. It was a place she was weary to fly around.

Years ago, she remembered waking up there. It was after being stolen, shoved into a bag and trapped. She was compacted in the dark unable to move as her wings and legs were bound. The whole ordeal was terrifying, and the time it lasted was unclear. She could not recall how she was caught, or why, but she knew she was not the only one. Around that time, many different birds, of all colors and sizes started disappearing.

She was still young when she was smuggled, traded away, and then sold, to an angry and disappointed human. A human who, to her hatred, was displeased with her! After all of her suffering, after being stolen from her home, this human did not even want her! Those that had stolen her insisted on the deal, and with that, she was sold, an unwanted owl. She did not know what happened to the other more colorful birds, the birds who had tedious songs that they chittered and chirped all day long. Such chatter was something most humans actually seemed to enjoy!

After being sold she was trapped in a foul smelling rotting wooden coup, one that smelled like it was previously overstuffed with domesticated and loud land-bound birds. Their short scraggily white feathers still littering the floor or her new prison. Their waste was caked all over the little wooden hutches that housed their hay filled human-made nests. The terrible uncomfortable nests, crusted with white and gray feces, inside a building so small, she could not fly. Not that she would have been able to even if she did have enough open space, for when she was first crammed into this death trap by the angry human, she hurt her wing, and it had not recovered, only gotten worse.

She did not know how long she was there. The mice that originally hid there were quickly gobbled up, and the few that remained were too fast. She could not move well in the tiny rotting wooden hell that she was sentenced to spend her life in. The human occasionally came, throwing in seeds and corn, things that did not appeal to her at all, but brought about mice and the occasional little lemmings. Then for a time, the human stopped coming all together, leaving her trapped and alone.

After a while, she could no longer run, she struggled to hobble and hop around, the few times she did try to stretch her wings, they would get caught on the splintering wood or rusty bent nails. It was not long before time became just as painful and slow as she was. Her sight suffered as her eyes because crusty, infected with the foulness that filled the miserable box she was enclosed in. Her feathers fell out faster than they should, mixing in with the feathers of the birds that lived here before her. She was often wet and cold, as the crumbling wood of the coup barely kept out the wind and the rain dripped in through the holes and leaked through the cracks of her wooden prison, soaking her.

That was when humans found her, starving and wounded, they took her to the glass dome place. There were others there, not just her kind, but owls of all types, almost all were wounded, clearly this was a place of torture. As weak and terrified as she was, she did everything she could to make the humans that had her, suffer. Biting, clawing, and fanning her heavily molted wings at them, she dared them to continue touching her. She would scream as loud as her strained throat could manage, threatening, warning, but nothing would make these humans cease. The clever monsters covered their arms and fingers with thick padding.

Back into a cage, this one was not made of wood, but steel and was considerably larger, but still not big enough to stretch her wings, but it was clean, and much more comfortable. Plant life, odd smelling and unchanging lined her metal prison. The leaves never fell or even changed colors, ants and other insects did not make their way up the branches, and there were no roots for delicious voles to burrow under. Yet, she was fed often, even though feeding often included an irritating wiping of her eyes, and stinging drops that made her blink rapidly. She could not tell what these humans were up to, but her eyesight was improving.

"Observation" that was a word she heard a lot, did she know what it meant? No. Over and over she was stabbed with hard little sticks, ones that pierced her flesh deeply like the thorns of different brambles and berry bushes. The stabs made her fell asleep unnaturally, but she was fed, and slowly she felt herself grow stronger. The humans had braced her wing, making the pained limb almost impossible to move. After what seemed like forever they removed the brace, and for the first time in a long time, she could move her wing, and moreso it did not hurt anymore!

A little rope was tied to her foot, and in the glass dome she was released into a dark room to stretch her wings, the rope was annoying used to reel her in after an unknown period of time. Damn these humans for trapping her here! Damn them for this rope on her leg, it reminded her of a snake, and she hated it. After being allowed to stretch her wings, she was taken to a much large cage, one that looked like a mini forest, and had trees that smelled like trees! It took her a while, but she slowly became adjusted to this life.

As time went on, she had grown used to the rope, that meant she could fly around freely in the large dark room. She even occasionally smelled other owls in there, although she never saw any of them, she heard them. Unlike her, they all hoo'ed and hooted, reminding her of the chirping birds from her her home island. It seemed as soon as she had become comfortable with the rope, there was no more rope. They clipped a small bright yellow tag to her leg, it was hard and uncomfortable at first, but she did not really notice as she was too busy flying away. That early morning was brisk, a bit foggy and cold, but she loved the freedom. The sun had not risen yet, and she was going to make the best of that time.

The humans of the clear dome building, did not try to catch her after letting her go, maybe they were done with her? She did not know, but she decided it was best to avoid flying by the place if at all possible. She had no official name as her kind did not believe in names, yet at the same time, she had more than she could ever count. "Belle chouette", "Piękna sowa", "Gutaussehend", "Eule", and as some smaller looking humans would call out to her. "Oooh! En-owl". The humans of the glass dome called her "Tyto alba #14". B2 #14. That was the black markings that were on the yellow tag she was given at the glass dome place. Occasionally while flying around the forest, she had seen other owls with yellow tags on their feet, and a few of the ones that did not, later were burdened with one.

Out of the different places she flew, there was one place she remembered well, the place where food was plentiful! That was where she was headed now, and it was not too long after she arrived. She she circled the place of limitless food, before landed in a young fir tree and scree'ing loudly to announce her presence.

"Mama, Papa, Lucja is back!" A little human called as she rushed out of the little house and to the tree where she heard the noise.

She knew these humans, they did not bother her like the other humans did, most of the time all they did was wave, or speak to her. Here there was no bright flashes in her face, no stones or pinecones thrown at her, no loud bursts of thunder from shining metal sticks, and above all, no nets, ropes, or painful spikes stuck into her. When she came, they opened up the big wooden barn they had, and allowed her to spend a few days there. She slept warm and feasted on the seemingly endless supply of mice, fattened by the grains the humans grew, harvested, and stored in the barn and the nearby mill.

This place was not her island, but it was the most comfortable home she had. After the little human opened the door to her comfortable barn house she swooped in, perching on one of the high beams, her eyes scanning the freshly swept floor for her scampering food. After eating her fill of the squeaking little meals, she landed on her favorite perch and preened her feathers, making herself comfortable. That was when, in the corner of the barn, she saw a pair of dark eyes staring back at her. The occasional bat did become trapped in the barn, and oh were they tasty, but this was no bat. She turned her head to get a better look.

Another owl? What an outrage! When did these humans start allowing another owl into her hunting ground!? The nerve of them! Angry, with feathers ruffled, she puffed up and spread her wings, to look as large and intimating as possible. She hissed and scree'd, letting the intruder owl know they had no place in her barn.

That was when she saw him. He, like her, was a fairly small owl himself, and seemed similar in color and pattern. His back was a much richer blend of darker browns than hers, and was decorated with little white spots. His feathery white chest, like hers, was speckled, and his face had the appearance of one wearing a white mask, however his face was more of a creamy color, with beige undertones. He had the colors of her mother, a barn owl that was local to the islands! She could not remember if she knew him or not, but he did not seem to know her, as he backed up, afraid of the beautiful owl that stood on a beam not too far away from him.

It was not to long ago, that she thought she was going to die, when bound and forced to travel far from her home, when stuck in the decaying wooden coup, when taken again by humans, when enduring the freezing winds, but now it was all behind her. Now she had her comfy barn home, a belly full of juicy prey, a warm and loving mate, and above all, a nest filled with precious eggs. Maybe life was not prefect, maybe it was not always easy, or even worth living, but now, she was grateful for everything. Every day she sat on her beautiful speckled eggs, with love and hope in her heart.

Things were alright, until one late afternoon when her precious eggs began to move. She climbed off them and watched as her beautiful babies slowly made their way out of their eggs. She closed her eyes, overcome with pride and joy as her long legged babies began to cry for food. This was it, now, at long last, her life was officially grand, after everything she had gone through, this single moment, and every moment afterwards, made it all worth while.