January 17th. 2015

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This old owl lived for years in an old tree in the garden behind the church Saint Mary of the Desert in Mojave. My friend Mark lived there (it is not an active church anymore). One day Mark  found the old owl below his usual tree, and when Mark left the church he brought the owl to me. It took me time, too much time. Over this time moths stripped off almost all of his feathers, this on my non-watch. But it actually helped me, his nakedness showed me his possibility. Horned owl, you get new horns, dear old guy, i’ll bring you back up in the sky, with the help of a boat. I owe you that. So finally he is flying again, in a boat across the night skies, over the moonlight lit silver seas. With painful stubbornness he tries to scoop up water for the dying tree in his boat. I feel your desperation. Hang on to the seeds, you might need them. Funny, years after this owl came to me, the church is mine.