The Owl in the Night
Saturday, August 11th, 2012THE OWL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT
As is often the case, I was wide awake the other night, when I would rather have been sleeping.
But the anxieties that usually visit me at such times were suddenly stilled. The low, nighttime din of insects had been pierced by a sweet whistling. Beginning on a high note, the whistling continued, each note lower than the last. After seven or eight notes, the whistling stopped. Then, a few moments later, it resumed in the same way, starting high and ending low. After several trips down the scale, each sequence followed by a pause, the pattern changed. Now the whistling was one low, sustained note, filled with vibrato! It sounded absolutely quivery.
The owl doing the whistling must have been very near, closer than I can remember ever hearing an owl in the 14 years we have lived on this ridge in the Shenandoah Valley. I lay in bed, listening intently, thrilled to listen to an owl’s nighttime calls. Insomnia had paid off!
After what must have been more than a minute, the owl stopped its whistling. And the night was the same again, silent, except for the ongoing summer sounds of the insects.
But I was different. My anxiety had been replaced by deep joy.  Happy, I drifted into a pleasant sleep.
P.A. I think the owl I heard was a barred owl.–April Moore


