
Hoot, hoot, hooot, whooo;
I woke up to an owl’s song
the air speckled with frost
tall, majestic trees laced in
dollops of weary wintry weather.
Hoot, hoot, hooot, whooo;
I, still dazed from heavy sleep,
woven in layers of colorful quilts
wondering, willfully curious as a cat
of the song’s lyrical message.
Hoot, hoot, hooot, whooo;
I had longed for a glimpse,
of it’s shadow and woven wings;
but silhouette trees can not speak,
as the owl’s song took flight away.
Hoot, hoot, hoo, hoo, hoo;
I hear only faint song in frosty air,
bear branches blush from slice of
dawn’s light casting intricate shadows;
a lullaby for bundled eggs they caress.
P. L. Wolf; Poet & Author of Jemi’s Noble Quest
“Owls live in a variety of habitats, including coniferous forests, mountains, deserts, and plains. The snowy owl lives in the cold tundra of the north. Owls nest in a variety of ways. Several species, such as great gray and great horned owls, live in old hawk or squirrel nests.”
Audubon International
Owls often roost in dense evergreens during daytime
“What does it mean when you hear an owlhoot? Hoots are used to communicate and can convey several different messages. Owls primarily hoot to claim their territory and fend off any would-be intruders (1). Hoots can also be used to signal the presence of a predator.”
World bird.org
Great Horned Owl is the first yearly nesting in Wisconsin, with a breeding season, late January and February
“Once the Great Horned Owls have laid their one to five eggs, both males and females will incubate them for up to five weeks. As chicks hatch and develop, adults may continue to provide care and protection into July!”
Schlitz Audubon
A good sound to weave into your awakening! (K)
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I know that feeling of hearing an owl but not being able to catch sight of it. It does seem to connect us to the deeper rhythms of nature.
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So lovely to wake to the song of an owl!
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Great entanglement!
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How could we not become entangled with birds, and particularly the owl and all it represents. I love the way you set the scene, the owl’s habitat, with the ‘air speckled with frost’, and the way it contrasts with the human habitat of ‘layers of colorful quilts’.
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Thanks Kim… there are no hoots this morning.
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Thank you Ingrid. It’s easy to do when one is still in their bed waiting for daybreak 😉
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I love all the sounds of this poem: the owl’s cry and all that alliteration. I think you entangled yourself with the spirit of the owl well.
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