It’s just a dream.

A tall, large city brownstone. I am inside with a number of people I don’t know (or don’t know I know).

An earthquake. I am just senses, no body. I clearly see/feel/hear what’s going on.

We’re in an abandoned loft-style space. I am at a window, and I see the center stairwell work loose from its moorings and slam against the retaining brick wall.

People panic. Their eyes roll in their heads like horses frightened in a storm.

“Nothing bad will happen as long as I’m here,” I say, and they are calmed.

Then I’m at another window, this one frosted glass, opaque. On the other side, dusk has arrived. Silhouetted through the glass are two horned owls. Their call prickles my skin, and…

I awaken. The owl’s call follows me into the darkness of my bedroom. One of the dogs snore softly on the mattress next to me, sprawled as she typically is across most of the space. Another hoot, this one beyond the window in my apartment. I crawl over the dog and go to look out. Perched on the balcony railing just beyond the glass is a tremendously huge owl, facing away from me and into the quiet night. It seems big enough to carry me away if it wanted.

In my half-awake state, I briefly recall reading I Heard The Owl Call My Name and remember that hearing that forlorn sound in the night can be a sign that one’s own death approaches. Intuitively, I know that this is not the case. Rather than frightened or alarmed, I am calmed.

That event took place about a week ago. Since then, I have been noticing owls everywhere. My friend, Goddess Ra, says that this is a wink from powers greater than myself referring me back again and again to that moment, that sense of pristine calm I felt standing in the early morning hours at my window.

The past two mornings, while out with the dogs, there have been several owls in the tall and arthritic trees at the end of our road, sounding their call into the frigid air. I see their masked faces peering down at me from their tremendous height like all-seeing deities.

And my soul loses its burdens.