The snowy owl ( and all owls) endangered, were shot down for target practice, killed only for their feathers to be plopped into huge vases in hotel foyers, along with those of pheasants, and jungle parrots… all killed for their feathers.
How much more beautiful are those feathers when the living birds are robed in them. How much more beautiful when those feathers quiver, are flapped, lowered and raised like airilons, when those feathers ripple in the wind, gliding, hovering… so as to break your heart with the creature’s beauty.
The owls are not ‘pets,’ they are wild, and they are predators. An adult owl swooping down from the sky can strike from behind a man riding a bike whilst wearing a ‘tasty looking helmet.’ The owl can knock that bicycle rider to ‘kingdom come’ with the force of its avian drop-weight.
The owls are devoted to their downy young til they fledge, and they are, I think, our blessed reminders of the risks and rewards of being free to truly fly in our own lives too. We are all in our own ways seeking the balances.
If you havent already, I hope you will see a great snowy owl in person someday. And in your own good way, that you might, even in your night dreams, for a time, become one.
That would be my blessing hope on you this day.