This morning the sun struck this Great Horned Owl picture over my couch. I hung it there years ago during my owl phase. It occurs to me that when your body is vital and the far horizon is still obscure and life is mostly filled with promise - owls are exciting - dangerous. Perhaps like the poetry of Louise Gluck. (Couldn't resist this, Casey:0) Today, I wish I'd purchased one of Basil Ede's gentler canvases - a heron, perhaps - some gentle wading bird that feeds on mollusks and fish - nothing with fur and warm blood._________________________________________________
3 comments:
Dunno about that heron. I've watched a great blue drown and eat a mouse, and a great egret catch and eat a song sparrow. They're both hell on black rails, too.
I'm getting creaky myself, but I do still like owls. I was looking a burrowing owl in th eye the other day -- owl on fencepost, I in car -- and enjoying the way he or she looked me in the eye right back.
That is rather a fierce owl painting, though.
Ouch,Ron. Scratch the heron - how about a Limpkin, better yet a Roseate Spoonbill?
As yes, the direct gaze of a Burrowing Owl - it's been years. Glad you dropped by to share . . .
If you are interested in Basil Ede's prints you might enjoy - www.patriciangallery.com Your blog is delightful. Patricia.
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