A barred owl perched upon a wind-fallen tree and surveyed the damage (of the tree and perhaps himself, for he seemed to be injured, not flying away upon being approached). I wonder what he has seen in the woods, how his eyes scan the forest floor. What is it like to glide with an aerial view, to fasten your eye to a target and calculate a dive from above? What is it like to swivel your head, to scan the widest of perspectives? What do you see when you lock eyes with me?

Joy