“Owls, babies….

 

 

 

(unfinished painting of baby owls by the author)

Haibun posted for dversepoets.com

Almost every evening we hear owls…hoot owls, barred owls, who know what lurks out there.  Spring is when you hear the symphony of warble.

I remember years ago , when I first heard an owl very near the chicken coop.  I grabbed a rake and ran into the  coop with the hens.  I had no idea what monster lurked outside in the trees.  Turns out it was a hoot owl…6 inches high.  I stood guard for an hour.

In the spring you look for the songbirds, sitting on tender branches with tight little buds, unfurled yet, but soon to be colorful and scented.

The season of rebirth, the season of hope is contained in each bud.  It brings expectation to the heart.

 

–

Wildlife creeps in

Coyotes bark, owls hoot

We share the landscape

 

 

 

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2018