The last feather I saw was a curved downy fluff next to Mr. StripeyPants on the bed. The two comforters are filled with the down of the goose. One is cinnamon, new and soft and fresh. The other, faded pink, old and wearing thin. We have patched the mauve one several times. But alas, there is another tiny hole somewhere. And once in a while, we see a feather or two dropped on carpet, or stuck in the thread of the flannel sheets.
I don’t have my feathers out since I moved in with Liz. With 3 cats, it’s impossible. They love to grab them between their teeth, carry them around like a mouse, shake their heads, munch a little, and drop them near their food bowls. I used to have a circle of feathers on my altar in my old apartment. I would fill a blue glass antique bottle with sand I collected from the Atlantic or Pacific, and push the hollow tips of the feathers down into sand crystals, making a semi-circle of color.
I have found owl feathers before on walks through the woods. The 2 prize feathers are Bald Eagle, given to me by an explorer friend who kayaked in the Northwestern corner of Washington State. One is white, a tail feather. I had never seen one that close before she gifted me with it. She had gotten permission from one of the Native American tribes she was visiting to pick a few up from the forest floor. She said she saw hundreds of eagles flying the area on that kayak trip.
I keep thinking of the feathers flying from the mouth of the hawk in the Galway Kinnell poem when the hawk eats the jay. And I remember one of our readers talking about seeing the actual act, hawk devouring jay, last month on a walk through the city. The closest I have come to seeing a bird of prey hunt, is an osprey on the finger of Long Lake up in the Boundary Waters. I was on a week canoe trip and my two friends had gone off hiking for the day. I stayed behind on a gravel bar beach, slipped my journal out of the waterproof covering, and wrote.
I looked up from a line to see an osprey dive under the water like a rocket, and shoot back up to the sky with a fish in her talons. I will never forget that sight. What comes naturally to her is my treasure. I watched her on the lake for what must have been 30 minutes. Then she flew off into the distance. I didn’t see her again. Some days I long for the solitude of a trip like that, to be away from civilization as we know it, on bodies of water or untrampled earth. Something about the water though, and there is a lot of it here.
Water. Fluid. And in Winter, firm.
It’s warmer this morning, rising 6 degrees since I arose from sleep. It’s supposed to reach above freezing. Then drop again later in the week. I don’t see as many feathers in Winter as I do in the Fall and Spring. Summer is best for feather hunting.
The coolest feathers I have ever seen are from the Great Grey Owls that dropped from Canada to the area around Duluth a few years ago. Liz and I drove up (along with hundreds of other birders) just to get a glimpse of the wide-faced raptors. We must have seen 30 – 40 of them that weekend, perched in elms and birch, swooping low to the ground, the way they hunt, and, sadly, one deceased in the middle of the road.
It was still warm, had been hit by a pick-up truck minutes before. We stopped to offer prayers, and a closer look at her wings, talons, and feathers. We’ll never be that close to a Great Grey again.
I read later that the Raptor Center at the University of Minnesota had a ton of calls about Great Greys that year. They had been hit by cars when they were hunting low across country roads. And then, just as quickly, they were gone. Back to Canada. I don’t think they’ve ever traveled this far South again.
-posted on red Ravine, Saturday, February 16th, 2008
-related to Topic post, WRITING TOPIC – LIGHT AS A FEATHER
As I expressed to ybonesy I enjoyed your feather practices.
You have found some beautiful and rare feathers! I seem to find a lot of feathers too.
I place them in with some of my other “treasures” that I have displayed around my house. (abandoned birds/wasps nests, dried flowers, rocks, shells, bones, and on and on).
Someone told me that you can get arrested for keeping illegal feathers..I could not understand how a gift of a “found feather” could be a crime. :O
Thank you for sharing!
LikeLike
gypsy-heart, yes, those laws were put into place because people used to use raptors as target practice. I’ve frequented the places where raptors migrate through corridors in the landscape. Here in MN, it’s Hawk Ridge. In Pennsylvania, Hawk Mountain.
I read a book about Hawk Mountain and there are photos of all the dead hawks from people using them as targets. A woman bought the land and risked her life to stop the senseless hunting and preserve the land for the raptors. Cool story. I’d like to visit there again when I’m in Pennsylvania sometime.
It’s a shame we have to regulate wildlife so that species are not wiped off the planet. But it’s been our human history that that is exactly what would happen if we didn’t have laws that prohibit and regulate the killing.
But to me, found feathers are found feathers. It’s my belief they are here for all of us. And it comes down to intention. To me, they are sacred and gifts from the Universe.
LikeLike
I remember you writing about the Great Greys, the one you found and kept. What happened to it? Were you able to photograph it? I’d love to see photos.
Jim recently saw a red-tailed hawk on our land attack a bird. He said it was amazing. The hawk dove at the bird and went to the ground. He said he didn’t see either fly up after that, and he didn’t know what kind of bird it was that the hawk got.
Today when we went out, we saw a bunch of seagulls. The oddest thing, as we have no sea. But they were so beautiful. I realize for those who see them all the time, they are probably pretty common and not exciting. But we think they’re awfully pretty birds.
LikeLike
Yes, the lovely Great Grey that Liz and I stumbled on up near Duluth. I felt so bad she had gotten hit by a car. Alas, I was never able to photograph her beautiful wingspan. I was all set to do so and then give her a proper burial, but something unexpected happened.
Over the few months I was packing up, moving out of my apartment and in with Liz, she was the very last thing I carefully wrapped up and was going to move into cold storage. And you won’t believe it – we were both so exhausted the last night of moving – it was midnight when I checked all the rooms and closed the door for the last time – yes, I was so tired, I totally forgot her!
The next morning at work, I remembered and rushed back to the apartment to get her – she was gone. The carpet was already stripped and they were painting for the new person to move in. But no one was around. So I never got to photograph her or give her a proper burial. I felt so bad. I was really glad that I had checked out her beautiful feathers the night before. It’s something I will probably never see again.
Hey, I think some kinds of seagulls are beautiful, too. We have a few by the lakes here. There seem to be so many at the ocean though. I never checked to see if there’s a difference between the salt water and the fresh water gulls. I wonder.
LikeLike
How sad that that happened. I bet you were truly bummed. Maybe someone else who loved owls as much as you saw her and buried her in a way that would have dignified her life.
This past fall I was walking down a long drive on our property, lined with Salt Cedar and Russian Olive (both very bad for this part of the world, as they drink up huge amounts of water). The trees grow bushy and create a brush where animals can nest and hide. Well, we scared a huge owl that was in the trees, although the owl ended up scaring us more. I screamed when it flew away. I hadn’t seen one that big before.
LikeLike
Liz and I were both pretty bummed about it. But then, we had the same thought as you. Hopefully, someone else buried her in a respectful manner. And in the process, got to experience the wonder of her beautiful feathers and wingspan.
You know, I bet everyone has an owl memory like the one you describe. When you see or experience an owl, you just never forget it.
I remember driving home from Oregon once, back to Montana over one of the passes. We used to drive straight through, all night long (my younger days, of course), and one trip, at the very top of the pass, a huge Owl just swooped down in front of us on the road and scared the crap out of us.
Looking back, I bet she was hunting low to the road, the way the Great Grays do. But I’m telling you, it was completely still outside, and so dark, and no one was on that mountain pass but us. And then suddenly, there she was, right in front of us. It was truly amazing.
Hey, are the Salt Cedar and Russian Olive invasive species to New Mexico (like the Buckthorn here in Minnesota)? We just got rid of 4 Buckthorn in our yard last summer.
LikeLike
Yes, completely invasive. Chinese Elm, too.
Chinese Elm was introduced by a mayor Clyde Tingley a long time ago and has spread like weeds. I truly dislike Chinese Elm. They produce these horrid little yellow seed pods that fly everywhere in the windy spring season. They pop up like grass, and then the roots go down so far they’re hard to pull up. You end up having to just keep cutting at the base.
We took out four or five large Chinese Elms from our old house. It’s hard to cut big, mature trees. It’s hard to give up the green and the shade, but that’s one of the only ways to control the invasive spread.
I actually like Russian Olive, as long as they aren’t crowding out the fruit trees. We’ll take out the ones that are in the orchard, but we’ll leave a lot of the others.
As for Salt Cedar, it is a beautiful tree. It turns the most magnificent pinks, salmons, and rusts in Spring and Fall, and it’s wispy and lovely. Unfortunately, it drinks up so much water and threatens the cottonwood, and so it is especially dangerous. I have the hardest time watching the Salt Cedars go, but I know they have to.
What are Buckthorn like? Do they grow into big thorny brambles?
LikeLike
I remember Natalie mentioning the Russian Olives in one of her books, that they are big in New Mexico. And then, I started seeing them all the time there. But I don’t think I knew they were an invasive species.
The Buckthorn grow like weeds. They don’t really have thorn-thorns, but they are prickly like thorns. And the stems are dense and get all twisted on each other. We had a row of them next to the house, and they were starting to spread like wildfire out back. The only way to get rid of them is to stop them from seeding (even though they did provide a lot of shade, so it was hard to let them go!).
They also have these berries on them that the birds like – but Liz told me their berries aren’t good for the birds. I can’t remember why. I’ll have to ask her.
Here in Minnesota, they encourage us to get rid of the Buckthorn so they don’t spread and block out other vegetation. Last year I learned to use a chainsaw (Liz, too) so that I could cut them down in our yard! Have you ever used a chainsaw? I can totally see why some people like it. It kind of makes you feel powerful in a strange way. Weird.
Anyway, the roots on the buckthorn are dense and twisted and deep. We have not pulled them up yet. And are trying to kill them with this chemical we bought that you paint on the stumps. We’ll see what happens this summer.
LikeLike
QM, no sooner had Daddy pulled out of our driveway this morning & J & I were left alone for the first time since his ordeal, that a Blue Jays tail feather floated out of the wooded area in the back yard. It landed right under our huge bird feeder. I went to get it. Beautiful blue with black striping. Surely a sign. It is on the kitchen table now, waiting to be hung from a mandala that Brant will color. A mandala of hope & strength. He will be thrilled!
It’s meaning unknown to me at this time. I began to ponder the meaning & it brought me back to this post. Not long after the arrival of the blue feather, another feather appeared, floating to the deck this time, & not the feather of an adult Blue Jay, but a smaller downy looking feather.
What does it mean? Surely it is a message. A message I hope to come to realize. D
LikeLike
diddy, the feathers are a wonderful and auspicious sign. I love the idea of hanging them from a mandala. And glad you and Brant will have some time together again to continue coloring mandalas.
I don’t have my Totem books in front of me. But I am carrying the Susan Seddon Boulet Animal Spirits cards. Some birds are mentioned but not the blue jay. There is a general card for Birds though. Here’s what it says:
Makes sense. I found a small polka-dotted Flicker feather on a short walk across the parking lot this week. It sits by my computer. 8)
I also saw them most beautiful red dragonfly. I have NEVER seen one so red. I wish I had had my camera. I did take a cell phone shot but I don’t know how to get it off of there to be able to post it. I guess it’s just for me to enjoy. 8)
LikeLike
QM, yes, that makes sense. I brought both feathers inside.
I must get a set of the Animal Spirits cards. You have convinced me of that.
I have to share something else about the feathers. Today I opened an email that I hadn’t read this morning. It had to do with angels & how I would receive a sign from them. Very chilling indeed. In addition to the feathers, beautiful butterflies have been coming around, more than usual. D
LikeLike