The Owl

A distant noise rings in the background. I open my heavy eyelids, and I become blinded by the sunlight. I force myself to squint, and saw the small human child standing outside my cage. The hairs on the child’s head were gathered into two strange tails at the base of its head. It wore a peculiar bright pink garment, and it shrieked in delight as its parents stood behind it, guarding the child.

My temper boiled. Humans; Do they have to wake an owl as it sleeps? Owls are naturally nocturnal.

I stretch my wings, and I began preening through my long feathers. I have beautiful feathers in shades of brown, with varying shades of lighter brown and shades of white. Having such beautiful feathers, I was naturally quite vain. The small child gawked and pointed at me, shrieking even more. I am a Barn owl, and I was especially vain about my white heart-shaped face and large, shiny black eyes. I swivel my head around, and notice another human child standing on the other side of my cage, staring and pointing and chatting excitedly with its companion.  I spread my wings and leap off of the branch, and barrel straight towards the child, beak apart and screeching. The human child and its companion scream, backing away from the cage. Just when my talons touch the cage, I veer off to the right and fly back to a higher branch and settled down. I then looked at the small human child in the pink garment and cock my head to one side, as if saying, What did I do? The human child gawked and pointed it's paws at me and shrieked in delight. 

             For most of the day, I usually sit on my branch observing the visitors, feeling insulted as they tried to hoot at me. I'd usually screech at them, with me head forward, and my wings spread out behind me. Humans. Taking animals from their own home and putting them in cages for their own sick delight, I thought bitterly. Sure, it was nice that there was always free food brought to you. But the feel of the natural wind blowing through your feathers, the soft rustling of the leaves, the safe canopy of the trees, and the earthy smell of the forest was a haven compared to the small cage I resided in a city zoo. It was home.
             I shake my feathery head, and stare at the setting sun, and continue to stare as the sun disappeared, and the night took over the day. The full moon rose, basking the zoo in a silvery glow. I look at the horizon, where the city ended and the forest began, and a single word echoes through my mind:
             Home.