View from the trees

As I am riding on this plane to the left coast, my heart sits in silence and sorrow for the one I love is alone in Texas. It was a year ago today (March 28, 2005)that I fessed my love and we were blessed upon the shores of the Suwannee. Having just arrived from that very place, we sifted through our highlights of the trip to that magical place and noted that a simple owl had made the Top-ten list. This owl (a happy couple actually) seems to have permeated the “highlight list” among a number of top musical performers; Jim Lauderdale, Donna the Buffalo, Reeltime Travelers, Guy Clark, Darol Anger; and the owls. What could some quirky hooting owls have done to gain such recognition or notoriety? They simply got it on…

We were fireside at the Walker campsite when we heard some strange, almost disturbing noise coming from the treetop above. This did not sound anything like an owl, but minutes later, that call was answered by another. This reply came seemingly from across the entire forest, throaty and moaning. Minutes roll by and upon us is the crisp wash of a set of wings soaring through the night sky. Then nothing. The fire crackling before us was the only sound to be heard until a series of desperate howls and grunts pierced the darkness like a needle through the skin. It was sharp, sweet, and rapid.
The two love birds (the owls-not Jennie and I) were suspended above us in a rite that could only produce such a sound. Quiet amazement was all that was whispered around the camp for a few moments. Then all returned to normal. Well, not quite normal, this is the Walker camp-site afterall.