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Owl Love You Forever

photo for Through the Lens

By Andrea Corwin Published 2 years ago • 3 min read
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Last year, after my husband and I walked at a pond in our neighborhood, I suggested we go into the small brewery across the street. A lit Edison lightbulb string, attached to the black iron fence, was an invitation to passersby. "We support local businesses. Let's check it out. You can get a beer, and I'll take sips of it." Bars and breweries are not to his liking, but he reluctantly agreed.

We found a family table in the small establishment filled with two young couples and their minor children. The family-friendly tasting room only had pretzels and small snacks or frozen pizza they would cook. It is a family-friendly gathering place for young people with games on the tables. I sat at a high-top table, waiting for my spouse to join me with his beer, and this place was really slow in taking orders and handling payments. The man behind the counter freely admitted they lacked good customer service.

We sipped the beer and looked around the tasting room. The barrels were visible behind a half wall, and local artist paintings were hanging on the walls. I got up to look at some of them and noticed a table where a class was being taught. Curious, I approached and watched the "students" select paint colors. The instructor showed them how to paint owls by drawing a large heart. One young woman used deep pink paint, while her partner chose red for the heart outline. Then, both used white paint to fill in the portion that was the owl's face, adding black lines for the eyes and beak. The female student commented on her partner's background color, which was almost magenta red, and liked it as much as he did. I hovered for a minute to see who would create one closest to the example painting on the easel.

Quizzing the instructor about the class, I found out the price included materials and that she comes on Tuesdays once per month. The following month would be a different creation. When I asked if she sold the paintings, she said usually no because they were examples for the students. Seeing how much I liked it, she named its price because she wouldn't use it again until next year and might have a different one then.

"She's teaching an art class," I told my husband. "They're drawing Barn owls in love because Valentine's Day is this week. Look at the example up there. It's so cute, I like it!"

"Why don't you join the class? You can draw one." He encouraged me, but I wasn't convinced.

"No, I can't draw. Her painting is so pretty: pink and white, two lovers sitting together on the branch - so cool!"

I was too shy to join the class, and I had no confidence that a painting would turn out even slightly well. I also didn't want to draw unneeded attention from strangers in an artistic endeavor I felt I would fail. I told him the price of her owl painting, and while he drank his beer, I kept saying we should buy it. When he finished, he stood and said, "Let's go." I looked at him, disappointed, because I felt my HINTS were quite strong. I had said outright that we should buy it.

We left.

February 14th is our anniversary; 2024 was our 37th. After a delicious dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, our daughter came over. My husband had a gift for me, and when I unwrapped it, my mouth fell open in shock. It was the owl painting. My romantic spouse had secretly contacted the artist and purchased the painting! It was such a sweet and total surprise that I wrote a poem about it on Vocal.

I took this photo to share with others how thoughtful and romantic my husband is. He showed absolutely no interest in buying the cute painting and insisted on leaving, playing it off perfectly. I know now that it was to get me away from there so he could return and purchase it. He heard me, and he surprised me with a special gift for our anniversary.

Copyright © 1/19/2025 by Andrea O. Corwin

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About the Creator

Andrea Corwin

🐘Wildlife 🧘‍♀️ 🖋️🈷️ 3rd°🥋 See nature through my eyes and photos.

Poetry, haiku, fiction, horror, life experiences. Written without A.I. © Andrea O. Corwin

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    Written by Andrea Corwin