WINGS

My fascination with birds of prey began eight years ago. There have been nesting owls on my family’s land in the United Kingdom as far as I can remember. I have heard them calling to each other at night.

One evening at dusk, walking back from the firs, a barn owl flew straight towards me. I felt a breeze from the vast wing span on my forehead as it floated above, nearly grazing me, enormous and intense; a white apparition in the diminishing light.

I stood there astonished, thinking of this mysterious creature with a reverence for their mastery and confidence, about a life I will never comprehend - mystical, terrifying, bloody and splendid.
I interpreted this chance encounter as an invitation to understand these birds on a deeper level.