This title comes from one of those things on Facebook that ask you to choose certain letters or numbers and come up with a likeness or something to that affect.

I rarely do them as it gives information I don’t want shared but this time, it hit home.

I AM AN OWL.

I relate to owls. Years ago, I used to collect owls and had about a hundred. Then my husband at the time used to bring home an exquisite owl when he went on his many trips. He said he couldn’t afford to take me as it was either business or because we simply didn’t have the money. I then discovered that the more intricate the design of the owl meant he had taken another woman on the trip and wanted to placate me even though I didn’t know it at the time. He made the mistake of taking one of them to London where obviously I wanted to go and met my favourite aunt in a store.

Oops!! Needless to say, I have none of those owls anymore – all donated. Don’t have him either!

This is how I relate to owls. First of all, they are magnificent birds, and I love their hooting at night, but the main connection is that I love the night, the darkness, the velvety sense of the nighttime hours which stretch into the morning before the sunrise.  It is quiet, peaceful. I can write and express so many emotions, so many ideas. I prefer darkness to daylight.

Am I weird? Yes. Am I a witch? Maybe. I do have a witch’s gown and hat, with a broom on the front porch but I only fly at night. Don’t you love it?

I spend a lot of time on my own. I work from home with Zoom. Every so often I make a house call or meet a patient at a diner;  it doesn’t matter to me as long as they are comfortable.

It is interesting to me as I often think of the aspect of life and choices. I do believe that most things in life are a choice. I like the phrase which isn’t mine, “Overcoming isn’t the same as getting over”.

I am hearing the need for challenges involving the oncoming holidays and have written about it extensively in the past. In that aloneness I wondered why I love the darkness. I love the song by Simon and Garfunkel, “Hello darkness my old friend” and play it a lot. There is a story behind that song.

A friend of theirs whilst they were in University, lost his sight. He became very depressed and planned to leave the University and not bother getting his degree. They decided otherwise and took care of him, making sure he attended his classes. They stayed with him until he graduated. A beautiful story of friendship and dedication.

One evening I was musing on my love of darkness. I was curious and wondered if anyone else preferred it to light. I wondered why it was so precious as I recalled it was from childhood. Then I got it. It was from my childhood.       It suddenly hit me and  I sat bolt upright as the memory was so energizing.

When I was a little girl, World War II started, just before my sixth birthday. This isn’t going to be a war story, which lasted six years and practically obliterated London and other major cities. It’s about recognizing events that changed my life.

1941, 1942 and 1944  saw bombing day and night. In the day, it was run for your life, get to the shelter (although my mother refused to go) and go to the basement. Grabbing Brownie, our little dog and practically falling down the stairs to get there quickly. It was terrifying and then after what seemed to be endless time the all clear siren went off. The Luftwaffe had returned to Germany until the following day.

I remember going upstairs and walking out of the front door, closing it very quickly because of the blackout and not wanting to be yelled at by the air raid wardens. Thank goodness for them although I didn’t think so at the time. So many courageous people of that time. I walked into the garden and felt the peace but more than that, I saw the darkness and all it brought into my little girl life. So, it is today.  I relax and begin to breathe calmly and deeply.

It wasn’t easy to get to this stage. I was terrified when I heard German being spoken. It sounded so guttural, and we heard enough of it on the wireless during those terrible years. Then came a film and a book called The Book Thief. It taught me that there were Germans and there were Nazis and that German men were often snatched off the street and forced to join the military. The girl in the book resembled Anne Frank somewhat. She also hid in the dark as I did.

The lighter part is that I am a football (soccer) enthusiast and although my team is Arsenal, my second favourite is Liverpool, and I loved their Manager. His name was Kopp, and my son said, “I never thought I would see the day when you really liked a German!”

That book made all the difference. Then I met some people who lived in Germany during the war and went through what we did, so that was another awakening. I have come to terms with all of that and have found peace. In fact I find more concerns in this country than in others, but I am not going there. Suffice it to say that I am reminded of my childhood in many ways.

It is now just before midnight, and I doubt that I will go to bed much before 1 or 2am. I will turn off all the lights and relish the darkness. I feel safe in it, and it brings peace, joy, tranquility and even safety. I know there are many people who do not like the darkness, who want a light on in the night and I respect that. We all have our life experiences and are affected in many ways.

The strange thing is that I have  PTSD ( post-traumatic stress disorder) which  presents itself with fireworks, police sirens, and fire sirens. It is much better than it was and like everything else from that time, it gives me an understanding of veterans. However, it isn’t just the military who endure this condition.  Victims of rape, incest, and of abuse of any kind, all suffer with PTSD. Some of them are terrified of the dark and others feel as I do because, as they tell me, they were able to hide when there was no light.

This is good news. It is now recognised and treatment is there. The best  companion for anyone suffering from this condition is a dog. I have been able to obtain service dogs for veterans who bring calm to them. Not only veterans. That is sadness in my life as I cannot have a dog where I live but WHEN I win the lottery, I will buy a bungalow with a fenced in garden and will go to the shelter the day I move in, to adopt the one who has been there the longest. I live for that day to come.

Our dog Sherlock died 48 years ago. He was magnificent, a mixture of Alsation, Mountain dog and sheepdog. He weighed 120 lbs. and thought he was a lap dog. I had his portrait painted for my son Daniel’s 18^th birthday and now he sits over my mantelpiece. I talk to him all the time. He was such a support to Daniel when he was young, and the family was going through challenges. In the meantime, I drive my friends nuts, who have a dog as I want to visit frequently.  

I am privileged to work with a community in recovery from the fatal disease of alcoholism. In the programme they are taught about trusting in God. Some do not relate to that because of early experiences which either frightened them or didn’t understand the power of what they couldn’t see.

So, I ask them, “What takes your breath away?”  and that works until they are comfortable in recognizing something bigger than they are. The usual responses are nature, babies laughing, sometimes family members and always music. I tell them that my John, who was a scientist, would go out of the house, look up at the sky and say, “How can anyone deny the power and beauty of the Universe?”    

I am sending this to my wonderful friend Kim to put onto my website. She is brilliant and very talented in her own writing skills. We shall see if anyone responds.

Just recently I asked the Facebook community why I had so few responses to my blogs. I asked if it was too long, boring and so on. A lot responded by saying they read them, love them but don’t write any comment. So, I am asking you to comment. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Goodnight darkness my old friend. I am going to look at you again.

Blessings.       

Owl with flowers Photo by Andy Chilton on Unsplash

Photo by Richard Lee on Unsplash