Owl Mythology

Say! I braved the dark, whistled up a cheerful tune to give myself courage, and set out late last night in search of an owl.

Folks kept telling me I needed to wise up a bit so I hunted all night long for a wise old owl. Figured when I met up with one, we'd shake hands; I'd sit down on a nearby tree stump, and listen to Mr. Owl share a whole bunch of venerated wisdom.

At least, that was my plan.

Have you walked through a black forest on a moonless night recently? No? Neither had I . . . .

At first, it was easy to tootle along for after all I was on a mission. To find an owl. A wise old owl. For he would know just how to gain wisdom: a skill which, once acquired, is much admired.

But soon, I could feel the darkness. It crept into my soul and threw shadows around my heart. Cobwebs snatched at my hair as coyotes cried out warnings with their eerie yip, yips and howls.

As each footstep took me deeper into the woods, my nerves jittered, twittered, quivered and trembled.

The night sounds were many and with each new noise, my feet jumped clear in the air and the little hairs on the back of my neck jumped, too. Sometimes, my feet jumped higher than the neck hairs, then hit the ground running.

The night sounds were many but none were the sound of the wise owl hooting.

Twas luck that brought my foot tripping over an unseen twig and found me suddenly sitting thuwmp upon spiny pine needles. For from that lowly position, I happened to look up and there upon a branch above me, slightly to my right, perched a bird with a large head, large front-facing eyes, hooked and feathered talons, a small beak, short neck, in brevity, an owl who badly needed to diet.

A stocky spook who didn't hoot, this owl indulged a horselaugh. A loud, coarse, vulgar laugh. A guffaw.

This owl, this unwise owl, let loose the loud neigh of a lusty horse as if he truly tweaked his beak at all the simple solutions we have for other people's problems while quite ignoring the questions we should have about our own.

A horselaugh, by gum, did our unwise owl utter.

And so, like a slow rabbit or a very fast turtle, did I scurry along to the safety and warmth of my little house snug in the city proper.

Now, knowing much from this experience with the wise 'n unwise owl who imitates the horse's whinny, I've learned that the sensible method of choice used to wise up is to glue a wisdom tooth to a wishbone.

If you don't believe this is true, take a long walk through the woods on a moonless night and listen to the hootowl horselaugh.
Owl Mythology © 2006 Chaeli Lee Sullivan