At a 1993 course in Massachusetts, an owl visited our group of animal communication students. She came from “Animals as Intermediaries” whose animal residents could not return to the wild after injury or human habituation. They were willing teachers in human education and therapy programs.
A Barred Owl, whose right wing was amputated, sat on the arm of Suzanne Ballard, a representative of the rescue organization. Owl broadly surveyed us and found us safe and compatible with her. She then focused her big dark eyes briefly from person to person, taking those who dared to follow into her sanctified realm of mystery, a vast pool of floating darkness and peace. She gave us this message: “You may think that I am broken and cannot fly, but I can. Even now I look for a place to land. I am wild and free. You can fly with me in your dreams. I will take you to realms where you can fly and be free to expand as spirits. I am glad to be here as your teacher. I represent all owls—all keepers of the realm of mystery from which spirit comes and to which all return. You will not forget me, and I will not forget you. Come fly with me. Be free. In your dreams, I will take you flying. We are One.”
As Owl delivered this message, Suzanne softly commented with surprise, that Owl was presenting her vulnerable, wingless right side to the audience, showing how safe she felt. In group presentations, she generally stayed with her left winged side exposed. Suzanne also mentioned that Owl was comfortable staying in front of an audience longer than previously. Owl conveyed that she felt we all understood that she was whole and free, even without her wing, and we were at one with her. What a breathtaking experience to communicate with her and receive her blessing!
This experience echoed another I had thirty years later with a Great Horned Owl at an Arizona raptor rescue organization. This owl, called Mags, had also been injured and was unreleasable. She lived in a large room at the center where staff organized medical and other care for the bird residents. Mags generally had free range of the office, loved relating to the staff, and enjoyed visits to public meeting places for education about raptors. She indicated her approval of my communicating with her by coming out of her kennel roosting place and chortling expressively. The staff wanted me to convey her responses to various questions about her health and behavior. Mags wanted them to know she was happy with her care and relationships with people there. Only a few minor details needed improvement. She mentioned her life purpose as being with people to teach them.
Even though her body was flightless, she told me she had many adventures as she flew far and wide at night with the other Great Horned Owls in the area. She invited me to fly with her that night.
After a full day, I went to bed without remembering Mags’ invitation. However, I woke up at 2 AM and flashed on our spiritual outing. Mags tagged me as I rose as a spirit above the land where other Great Horned Owls often flew. She showed me how owls see at night. Darkness appeared like bright twilight in etched detail.
As I flew in tandem with my adopted owl vision, rodents scurrying along the ground or partially hidden appeared lit up like Christmas tree lights. Dots of light sparkled along the edges of Mags’ expansive wings, giving an eerie glow to their almost silent glide.
We encountered a friend of Mags—the deceased co-founder of the Raptor Refuge. She appeared with an owl’s head and a human body dressed in black and embroidered with shamanic designs. Her face transformed into a hawk, then an eagle, showing her deep connection to these raptors. She then flew with us as an owl-headed shaman. After this adventure guided by ancient creatures of the night, I thanked Mags and returned to my human body to sleep in the rhythm of daylight creatures. As I fell asleep, I smiled with owl magic, wisdom, and grace sparkling around me.
