She wasn’t there the first time I ran around the hill so I wasn’t particularly hopeful when I looked on the second loop. And then she FLEW OVER MY HEAD AND LANDED ON A LIGHTPOLE.

“You can fly!”

“I’m an owl.”

“I’ve never seen you fly before!”

“Are you listening? I’m an owl.”

A bunch of songbirds started shrieking at her, and seriously, she was messing with them. She did little flits from branch to branch to get all up in their beaks. I couldn’t believe my luck; and then one of her downy breast feathers floated s…o… s…l…o…w…l…y… over my head, about three inches above my outstretched fingers. And then it drifted into the path of the sun and out of sight.

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