The Barn Owl

Lethal as dusk she flies, with feathers made of silence. The killing field below her is still, emptied of sound you would think, but she has mouths to feed, and asniper’s patience. A pale moon captures the whiteness of her face as she turns, a flying heart scanning soundlessly, up and down, quartering the field. But she is heartless, unmerciful, as nature dictates.

She knows it will come, that infinitesimal error of judgment, as little as a tiny foot tentatively moving the smallest blade of grass. The harvest mouse beneath knows that one false move is enough for her old enemy to strike. She too has mouths to feed, and all she asks for is survival, on yet another fearful night. Her bright eyes are not weapon enough to save her as the white ghost approaches. Her only weapon is stillness. Absolute stillness.

Silence meets silence.

A white flash, and a sudden swoop tears the sky apart, a brief explosion in the grass, and the owl retreats to her barn. As quickly as that, it is done. Another innocent has paid the price. Torn flesh loses its identity, nothing now but a hasty meal. And darkness wraps itself around the field once more. The harvest mouse scurries into the hedgerow. This time, she is spared, but somewhere beyond, a motherless brood of mice will wait in vain.

Jo B

LETHAL

Another day, another confusing, mixed up frame of mind. Oh well, today doesn’t quite feel as bad as yesterday, or was it the day before? It really didn’t worry me though as I felt safe and cared for. I wasn’t deeply asleep when I woke this morning, did I set the alarm when I retired to my bed last night? Some days I am in such a deep trance when the blasted ringing vibrates around my room but not today. I watched the curtains gently blowing and catching the draught from the window which was slightly ajar. It had been warm during the night and I must’ve kicked off the sheets so all I could make out were my pyjamas and bare feet. I sneakily stretched out and checked that noisy contraption on the bedside table and switched off the alarm before it bellowed out its silly tune, as I pulled back the bedding and snuggled down. The alarm was always set to full volume as my hearing wasn’t that good these days. I had some hearing aids but sometimes forgot where I had put them so I just listened to the crackling noises in my head instead.

Time to daydream and plan what to do with myself today, now let me think. Perhaps it’s Tuesday, I think so. Surely yesterday was my pension day, so that must’ve been Monday. Anyway, I mused whatever day it is I think I’d like to take my walking frame outside in the sunny weather, have a wander and stretch my legs after breakfast. I had my own little fridge in the corner of my room and every morning I found that it had been re-filled with yoghurts and fruit and fresh juice. The anticipation of guessing which fruit I’d been left always gave me a little game to play. The weather was warm and daylight came early, it must be Summer. So, I opted to choose strawberries and raspberries and vanilla yoghurt, we’ll see!

Easing myself out of bed I searched for my slippers which I’d kicked underneath my bed, found my glasses behind the alarm clock and slowly pulled myself upright. I think I was learning to live quite well with my advancing years and tried to keep active, but I would often dream of my younger carefree and mobile days! I could hear my son’s footsteps crunching on the path making his way to my garden room. I was lucky that he’d bought a house with grounds large enough to build me a leafy annexe where he could keep an eye on me, but also, it meant I would have my own front door and a little independence.

Each day he checked in on me before he left for work and today was no different. Just a quick hello and goodbye today as he had a train to catch for a head office meeting. After he’d departed, I opened my fridge to prepare my breakfast and I was delighted to find that I was correct. Breakfast was here and waiting. Freshly squeezed orange juice, vanilla yoghurt and berries. I pretended that it was the fairies who filled my fridge overnight but I suspected the family topped everything up when I wasn’t looking. Either way, it was our little joke.

On the wall next to my table for one where I sat to eat my breakfast was a whiteboard with a weekly diary and I glanced up and saw that it was actually Wednesday today. Ah, that must be day centre day then. I told myself it was good to mix and talk to others but most of the people there to me seemed so old, and they were more confused and forgetful than I was. If I had to listen to Mary’s stories one more time, I think I’m going to hit her with my handbag! After dressing and putting on my sensible, comfortable walking shoes I figured it was time to take the short walk to the end of the road to the day centre. My walking frame had been decorated a bright pink colour with matching ribbons and my grand-daughter had even made some L plates which had been attached to the front. There was no mistaking that this was mine and if Albert tried to take it home with him again there’d be trouble.

The sun was shining brightly and unusually I couldn’t hear any bird songs as I strolled at my own slow pace, pushing the frame in front of me. The few cars that passed seemed to be very quiet today. Maybe they are those electric plug in sort that my son had recently bought, I assumed. I soon realised that I had forgotten to put my hearing aids in today, which explained everything, and I decided it was too far to go back for them so just carried on my way.

On arriving at the village hall, I read a big poster on the notice board saying that today was an outing to the park instead of the usual indoor teas and chat. Well that’ll make a nice change I thought, so decided to carry on walking around the back of the hall to take the path to the park. The path was quite steep and the walker seemed to be picking up speed more quickly than I could shuffle along with it. Without any warning the wheel hit a large stone and veered off the path taking me with it. I stumbled and tripped and found myself lying amongst the weeds and undergrowth. I checked myself over and found that nothing was really hurting thanks to the long grass and thought about what I was going to do now? I started to panic a little and got all hot and bothered as I tried to sit upright and straighten my clothes. I called out for help but it was all quiet.

I took a few deep breaths and told myself that someone would be along very soon and to stay calm. I watched as an excited huge dog came ambling down the path and began sniffing his way through the long grass towards me. He seemed friendly enough but towered above me and I looked up and gave him a pleading look. I thought that this could be my saviour and guessed that his owner would be following along very shortly. “Barney, Barney where are you”, I heard, before a kindly lady appeared and spotted me and her dog who was now standing guard over me. “Goodness me” she called out, “I hope you’re OK?”. I assured her that nothing was broken but my pride was definitely dented. She helped me to my feet and untangled the walking frame from the weeds.

“Right my dear” she said, “I think we should get you back home”. I was still feeling a bit dazed and confused as she asked me where I lived. I had to ask her again what she had said and explained that I’d left my hearing aids behind. I replied that I lived with my son and family at 99 Lethal Avenue. A puzzled look and frown were followed by a long hmmmmm. I watched as she reached for her phone as she tried to search for Lethal Avenue. “I’m not sure I can see where that is, but this path has surely been very lethal for you” she replied. I was getting a little worried by now and the thought came to me that on the reverse side of my L plates my grand-daughter had written my name and address. I asked the lady to read what was there and watched as a huge smile broke out on her face. “Ah I see now”, she replied “we are only around the corner from where you live. You actually live at 99 Leaf Hill Avenue”. Yes, that’s right I said, Lethal Avenue. The kind lady put her dog on the lead and slowly helped me along the path, around the village hall until we reached Lethal Avenue. Here we are I said, this is it.

On arriving at number 99 I thanked my new friend and said that this was where I lived and she waited until I walked along the drive to reach my front door. I turned and waved at her and placed my walker inside by the door. Well, what an adventure that was, but I thought I wouldn’t mention my fall as there was no harm done, and it had been a little bit embarrassing. So that when my son arrived home while I was preparing tea, and he asked how my day had been, I replied that there was nothing new to report as it had been the usual day at the centre. After dinner my son mentioned that he’d been chatting to our new neighbour outside, and said what a huge dog she had. “Lucky it was a St Bernard,” he said. I didn’t quite follow him, but as he was leaving, he added, “anyway I’m glad you’re okay,” and gave me a big wink as he was leaving my room.

I watched and waved him off but stood there for a moment perplexed until I glanced down and noticed the pink paintwork of my walker was still very muddy with soil, and weeds and grass were tangled around its wheels.

Barbara