What do you want me to learn?

Twice, within a span of ten days, in the exact same spot, a barn owl or a barred owl nearly flew into the windscreen of my car on my drive home from work. Both times I swear I could see its eyes, it was that close. I keep replaying the moments in my mind, along with folklore about owls, trying to find the meaning in this encounter.

Some cultures fear the owl. It is silent. It deceives its prey. When its razor sharp beak and talons strike, its victim knows.

Other cultures see the owl as a symbol of wisdom. It can see what others cannot not. It knows truth, knows when others are deceived, and is not easily deceived itself.

Silence. Wisdom. Deception. What owl do you want me to learn from this meeting of ours? Am I missing something in my silent observation of my life? What message do you bring me?

I have no answer. But I continue to listen to all you and the earth offers me.