Owl

I was in my pajamas when, Purely on impulse, I hopped into my dad’s Sequoia to go with him to check the locks at the office. He’s somewhat obsessed with making sure it is properly secured. It was sunset. So, after we had made sure the gates and alarms were in order, a trip to the gas station was made.

The place was deserted. Only a few cars were in the lot, maybe one was filling up on the gas, currently soaring at record highs. When visiting the convenience store (ouch, spelling!), we always get some junk food. So, after going inside to purchase some yummy frosted animal crackers, we were back out. I glanced at the evening sky. A bird was flying low above us. A crow, I thought. No, a hawk. I finally realized it was an owl.

An owl. I’ve never seen one flying before. Especially not in the wild. It had a thick body. Abnormally chunky, seemingly anti-aerodynamic. And this owl was big. He glided through the sky, off into the nearby forest. Dad saw it, too. On the way back, I realized that was the only time I’ve ever seen a flying owl. I want to see one again sometime.