You’ve been on my mind lately. Why, I cannot say, since now you are but a faded memory. Yet, I see you so clearly. Not your face, but you clothes and your owl.
It was May 2012 and I’d been in Glastonbury for a day. I had been inside a shop, admiring a green dress. It was maybe 4 PM. I was with my ex at that time, exploring the towne. Out we walked from the shop and there you were, standing at the corner, looking in at the window display. You were wearing a similar dress, tall and elegant like you, and I think it had a hood. Maybe we had been admiring the same dress in the same shop. I don’t know. I only know that you had a way about you. Something mystic, mysterious, and as beautiful as the barn owl perched on your arm.
You and I, our eyes met fleetingly. I don’t know if we even said hello. I remember you smiled and looked back in the shop window, or at your winged companion.
The owl’s eyes followed me. She and I gazed at each other and I didn’t want to look away. I know she watched me as I walked up High Street. There was connection, though it was intangible, momentary, and then it was gone, as though a soft wind had rustled my leaves.
You were so beautiful, both of you. Normally my memories are in photographic form, but you…you are a rare painting, a Vermeer, and I wonder if you were real. For years I have assumed you were real, for I know my ex and I both saw you standing there, plain as day. Your owl looked right at me. I haven’t thought of you in years. Why have you come to haunt me now? Who were you?
At the time I had just learned of the Isle of Avalon, home to Rhiannon. I have come to think of Avalon as my soul’s origin, though I did not know it then. I was discovering myself and my path. Could you have been Rhiannon? Did I meet the Queen of Fae that day? Or did I meet but a kindred spirit, two ships passing in the night?
When I visited the Glastonbury Abby a few days later I met an eagle owl. Beautiful he was, with sharp amber eyes and powerful feathered talons. Yet, he did not hold the same enchantment as the white bird on your arm.
What does it all mean? Why did we meet and where did you go? I never saw you again, though I looked for you every time I walked through town. I know we will never meet again.
Who were you? And, if by chance you are thinking of me, can you send a sign?
I left my home the day I left Avalon. I left you, a perspective friend, and an endless world of possibilities. If fate should be defied, and we meet again on that distant shore, I do hope to learn your name.
Until then I shall wonder, content to never know the answer, and appreciate the beauty in your mystery.
~K. White Wolf