When you don’t sleep at night you get to know the owls.
Their songs – or more often their talking, their quotes, their calls, come in five notes.
They say “we knew you.”
They call out a secret code,
To a lone Vampire,
On a Dark Night,
Or maybe they sing to a lost love, or more so the same wrong words.
They sat in the tree like they are auditioning for a Steinbeck novel, in their oak tree on a California night just lit by a full Werewolf moon.
With the white Sierras in the background and the knowledge that the Pacific Ocean is close.
I was with Max earlier, my brother. He is such an alpha, yet so silent in his feelings. He listens to the owls and I know he thinks of a lost love that nobody else knew, or remembers. It only lingers in his heart and the secret places that only the creatures of the night know.
The distant traffic noises fade to nothing, and the night belongs to the soft sounds of the owls, and the random sound of deer walking single file through the field behind my home.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman