It’s morning again and I’m sitting here with a book, my phone, and a caramel macchiato flavored cup of coffee.
Behind me, through the double window and past the balcony awning, there’s an owl somewhere in the tree line.
The oooh-ua-oooh-oooh-ooooh sound he makes is comforting, bringing me back to fond memories of my youth when the owls behind my parents’ house did the very same thing.
I haven’t heard this animal call in quite some time, in fact, it’s been ages. Maybe the owls of the region had flocked off to parts new or unknown, but having moved recently, it seems like I might have stumbled upon another one of their natural sanctuaries.