AAAWWWHOOO
AAAWWWHOOO
Who cooks for you??
Still
Still
Blink
Swoooooop
Clutch, hold, hold, hold
Swivel to peer, search, scan
AAAWWWHOOO
AAAWWWHOOO
Who cooks for you??
Still
Still
Ruffle
Gaze
Swivel
If you guessed it was the magnificent Owl that captured my imagination in last week’s blog entry, you were right! “Who cooks for you?” is the “sound” many owl researchers employ to describe the owl’s repetitive refrain. (https://www.owlresearchinstitute.org/) The gorgeous, majestic, mainly nocturnal raptors vocalize at distinctively low frequencies, which allows their songs to travel long distances without being absorbed by vegetation. You might say they are the baritones and basses of the night chorus! If you listen for their song, it resonates deeply within the sacral chakra, where creativity and generativity reside. Owls have three basic needs which, when met, offer humans their comforting presence as sentries of the dark and legendary repositories of wisdom: food, somewhere safe to roost and a place to nest for their young. Native prairie grasses and wooded areas like Prairiewoods make ideal home-bases for owls. Noted hunters, owls often employ a “perch-and-pounce” method for capturing prey, or “quartering flight,” a hunting-while-soaring approach. Either way, they cache their food into hiding spots to retrieve for their young during nesting season, or to return to when they are hungry. Owls may roost with their mates or form small communities with other owls roosting nearby the hunting grounds. Not especially adept at creating and feathering new nests, owls tend to “repurpose” abandoned nests, mostly from cavities in trees and rocks and even mounds of earth if necessary. Nests provide protective shelter for hatchlings until they can thermoregulate and fly, usually within a matter of weeks after hatching. Without a ready food supply and ample hunting grounds, the weaker hatchlings will likely starve. That’s why it is so important for us human-kin to continue to support strong eco-systems to meet their basic needs.
My imagination makes me wonder what else do owls experience, beyond basic necessities? I’m not talking about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs here, just an exercise in imagination. If I am “Owl-I,” what do I like or enjoy or desire in the panoply of abundant life that constitutes creation? “Who cooks for you?” I like that image as well—one of tender care, as a mother or father cooks for their children, or a beloved prepares an intimate dinner for the loved one. It is a question of relationship to ask, “Who cooks for you?”
If I imagine myself as “Owl-I,” who/what “cooks” for me? What makes me feel safe and warm, cherished and loved, at one with all creation and at peace in my own being? It’s got to be the trees, the lovely breeze whistling around the roost, creating counter-melodies to my bass refrain. It could be the way the night sky looks from the tree canopies, sometimes tinged with saturated moonlight, or suggestive shadows as the moon peeks from behind the clouds. Sometimes, I must shudder a bit with rapt wonder amidst the roiling of tremulous storm clouds and awesome lightning displays. It must be the free-falling elation of shafts of air currents as I soar effortlessly to my roost after a successful hunt. It might be returning to the roost where my young are crying out for nourishment and warmth, and feeding them readily from the bountiful results of my prodigious hunting skills. It might be akin to the feeling of the human mama or daddy who is awake working at night and preparing for the next day, while all the babes are asleep in their nests, peaceful, restful and potent with the impetus for exploring life. It might be just the wonder of other creatures and the human-kin who drink in my presence with straining eyes and keening ears, elated to commune with my kin for a few precious moments while I swivel my head and peer endlessly into the manifold beauty of the trees and skies. It might be that my wisdom comes from just being fully alive, genuinely owlish. Who cooks for me? It seems to be the delights of Earth itself, and all my relations. We are all one.
Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you?
—Laura Weber, Prairiewoods associate-director and retreats coordinator