Hannah once asked me what my spirit animal might be. Given my deep affinity for owls, I told her it would be an owl. “A small owl?” she asked. “No, a big ass owl, like a Great Gray,” I told her. Frankly, I’d want to be top of the food chain.  However, the truth is, it is the Barred Owl that holds my heart.

Many nights I can hear the call of the Barred outside my window. It drives Paul nuts how I want to crack the window in the middle of the winter.

Until today, I’ve spotted this owl in the wild ten times. Four times they’ve flown across the road in front of my car. Three times have been here at home.  One instance was a snowy day. I arrived home to see one perched on the edge of our porch roof. When I exited the car, it took flight right over my head, so close that I could have reached out to touch her. Another morning one was perched on our number sign at the end of the drive – next to my decorative metal owl. Once, late at night one was sitting on the garden water spicket post outside the chicken coop. Then there were my first captures on camera. The first – just a weak mobile phone image. The second, a spectacular hour of watching an owl on the barrens. Another was this sad one who had been hit by a car.

This morning, I attended a workshop where I had a conversation with a group of friends about spirit animals. I shared with them that this animal felt part of me in a way.

At 5:30 this evening, something out the window caught my eye and I looked up from my book to see this.

I quietly snapped a picture with my mobile before dashing off for my camera.

Gidget and Cinder Kitty, sensing my excitement went a little crazy and she flew off in a giant winged swoop into the woods.

Of all days to for a Barred Owl to visit. It’s just uncanny and feels somehow spiritual.