Merry Christmas!
…or whichever holiday you celebrate! I applaud you for celebrating after the last few years the world has struggled through. We will make it! We will be even better! Love to all and joy in the new year!
The Dream that Saved Me
The bracelet below is inspired by my dream, but the dream is much more serious than the owls on the bracelet imply. This morning I woke up thinking about my owls. I have kept this part of my life very private until now, but with all the darkness and hate that is permeating the world today, I feel I must share it and hope that it helps someone.
When I was 8 years old we moved. It was the weekend of President Kennedy’s funeral. When I started the new school I was far, far behind in math. We had been studying the “new math” on a TV at the old school, but at the new school they had already learned long division. I had a terrible time catching up. I hadn’t even done multiplication yet. I was also chubby, had a chronic sinus infection, and I was a little odd. These things do not combine to make a popular kid.
2B or not 2B: Dark Days
I’ve been a little suicidal since I was around five years old. That was when my aunt molested me, my father got sick, and my maternal great grandfather died. I remember not wanting to be alive any more after his funeral. He would sit on his porch with me and talk to me and teach me things like how to carve a chain from a stick and how to kill flies with a broken rubber band. My father got an overdose of radiation at his job soon after that and had to be gone a lot while he was studied by doctors in Boston and Chicago. When he was home he was a shell of his former self. He was like the ghost of my father.
My abusive aunt was 11 years older than me and the clueless adults around me wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell them how bad it was. She loved to torture anyone who couldn’t fight back. My maternal grandparents were my only allies, but they couldn’t do much about the other side of the family. I loved spending time with my Granny and Poppy. I felt safe with them.
Fast forward a couple of years when I was eleven or twelve. Someone in my class had a party and I was one of the very few people who were not invited. I cried myself to sleep that night, wondering why they didn’t like me and thinking of ways I could “not be alive any more.”
The dream
That night I had a dream. I was engulfed by darkness. Not the black of a moonless night, but the total darkness of the deep interior of a cave. Fear gripped me for a second, then I heard a rustle-just a whisper of a sound. I looked toward it and a person was near me, but hidden by the dark.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“It’s okay, you know me,” a man’s voice told me-not audibly, but as a thought. I felt at ease but my mind was still doubtful.
“I don’t know you.” I expected an outburst or at least a little vexation from him, but there was only calm.
“Yes, you do. Come with me. I’ll lead you,” he said.
I was still afraid, but I took his hand since there was no one else around and I could go nowhere on my own.
It wasn’t long before I saw a tiny light in the distance.
“What is that?” I asked him.
“You’ll see.”
As we got closer I could see that the light was coming from a small window in a one-room shack. We got to the door and he said, “Open it.”
“Is it okay? Who’s house is it?” I asked.
“It’s okay. You’ll be fine.”
I eased the door open and stepped inside. The room was filled with dozens of owls. Not ordinary owls, but every species and each one in a brilliant neon color. Light emanated from them so brightly that it hurt my eyes. Some blue, some red, orange, green, yellow, purple–they all seemed gentle and absolutely gorgeous. Poles went across the room for perches and they flitted around making soft owl sounds.
I was in awe. “They’re beautiful! Are they yours?” I asked.
“No, they’re yours,” he said.
“They’re not mine. I don’t have anything like this.”
“They are yours. They will be. You’ll make them.”
Then suddenly it struck me in the way that you get a sudden rush of thoughts that are over in an instant but which impart tons of information.
“I know who you are,” I said to Jesus. I couldn’t see his face, but I felt him smile.
“Yes. I know you. You will create these in your life,” he replied.
“I don’t see how I could do that, but I’ll try,” I said and I felt loved like never before. Then I woke up.
Have an owl!
During the worst times of my life, when I have been severely depressed or in a bad situation, I think about this dream and hope that maybe my life has purpose; that I’ve made a difference and will keep doing so. And every time I start a new project I add an owl somewhere to honor the giver of my dream. That’s how I named my blog and the shop I used to run. Even when I first named my jewelry design business DCM Designs, I used an owl as my logo and incorporated my initials.
My ardent hope is that others can keep going without having a dream like mine. I want you to know that there is always hope! There are so many people hurting and so much sadness that I want to spread some love so I give you each a bright owl.
I firmly believe that EVERYONE has “owls” of their own. Let them grow and send light into the world to make it more beautiful. Fill the world with light and love. Make yours any shape you want–turtles, or fat neon numbers or clouds. Just share with others the best in yourself. The darkness will dissipate and the world will become a better place.
A Bird’s Life
My husband and I eagerly watch the nature around us. We have an abundance of flora and fauna around our home and our lives are full of wildflowers and animals. To name all the animals around our home would take too much space, so I will say that there are very few native species that we have not seen or heard here.
Babies! and they’re hungry. 
Birds especially intrigue me. Like my Granny Ollie, I’ve always kept bird feeders and a bird bath in the back yard to lure in migrants and to feed the resident birds who entertain us. The visitors vary from year to year and I’m usually rewarded with a new-to-me bird during migrations. I have to admit that wildlife conservation and living near the lake have expanded my sightings immensely. When I was a child we never saw wild turkeys, tree swallows, bluebirds, Canada geese or Sandhill cranes. There were no cormorants here, no eagles, and few osprey and herons. Now, we have an abundance of them. We even have cattle egrets in the rural areas. I fell in love with these wonderful birds in Granbury, Texas, as they followed the cattle to feed on insects. Beautiful birds!
A couple of years ago we spent several months observing two different osprey nests between our home and town. Each time we drove by we would note the progress of construction, hatching, growing chicks and, eventually, fledging. If one of us drove to town and back we would give each other an update when we returned home. If we forgot to update we would be questioned, “What are the ospreys up to today?”
The nests were built just days apart and the eggs hatched along the same timeline. One nest was on our road not far from the lake and the other nest was on a street light by the lake in town. The town nest was built on top of an owl decoy that was supposed to deter osprey nesting. It helped hold the nest together. I like to think that owl became a toy companion for the hatchlings.
We enjoyed watching the amazing growth of the chicks and the dedication of the parents. Even through windstorms and torrential rain both nests flourished.
In late Spring the nestlings were as big as the parents and the time came to spread their wings and fly. The fledglings from the nest nearest our home were eager to fly and soon their nest was abandoned. The town nest, however, was not.
It’s amazing how the animal world echoes our human lives sometimes. One of the city birds refused to leave the nest. It was like a spoiled teenager who wouldn’t leave his parents’ basement so I dubbed it Entitled Brat (EB). It sat in that nest demanding to be fed for weeks. The parents fed it for quite a while, but they finally left it to fend for itself. It remained. I guess it ventured out and ate what it fished from the lake, but I never saw it fly. Every time I drove by, EB’s silhouette was still visible in the nest.
I guess city officials finally got fed up. One day shortly before the annual Independence Day festivities, I drove by and saw a city bucket truck parked just under the street light that held the osprey’s home. Several workers stood around the truck while one city worker was high in the bucket, tearing away the sticks that held the nest together and uncovering the owl decoy that was supposed to deter nest-building birds. That lingering osprey was fussing and trying to attack the poor fellow. I have to say that EB was flying really well. The nest came down anyway, a stick or two at a time.
For a few days, the now-evicted EB sat on the light pole looking like a sulking vulture. After that, though, I guess it moved to more comfortable quarters. I haven’t seen it there again.
The next year’s brood was more typical. The fledglings willingly left the nest behind for better opportunities elsewhere. I still wonder about Entitled Brat, what happened with the silly bird. Maybe, like many human children, when forced to face reality EB prospered. I hope so.