Continued…

A large snowy owl, with its wings outstretched, was permanently perched on a log cut from a birch tree. Mesmerized by the bird frozen in flight, I approached it, reaching upward to touch its wing feathers. One of the glass eyes blinked. Trick of the light? Perhaps. I placed a finger on one of its talons. The bird’s head rotated toward me. Without thinking, I stroked the downy-soft feathers covering its massive chest.

The once stagnant trophy re-animated, flapping its powerful wings and shifting its grip on the piece of wood. I looked the creature in the eyes. Shifting hues of liquid gold stared back at me. Strangely, I understood what it wanted me to do. I removed the screen from the window, then opened it as far as I could. Kept in its place for what I assumed to be years, yet so close to its current point of escape, all the bird had to do was hop from its perch to land on the windowsill. The owl turned backwards. As if to say farewell, it bowed its head. A second later, it allowed its body to drop forward through the opening. I watched as it savoured its new-found freedom, able to silently glide into the semi-darkness of moonlight and shadows.