An Open Air Page For Big Girls and Boys

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 343, 2 May 1928, Page 6

An Open Air Page For Big Girls and Boys

THE LITTLE OWL IN the days when the moon was a silver feather, blown by the winds of chance into the sky, a little owl was born into the world. He was round and soft and warm with big eyes filled with nameless wonderings, and he was the very first one of his kind to start adding two and two together. “I am here in the world,” he said to himself, “and I do not know the reason. Everything seems very wise all about me. This tree that is my home is full of whisperings. It speaks to its leaves and they answer. If I listen well I might hear what they are saying.” “I can .sense a storm in the air,” murmured the tree. “Cling to me well.” “I, too. shall cling to you well,” said the little owl, “for I am new to the world and fear of the unknown sleeps unbidden in my heart.” But the language of owls seemed foreign to the tree who knew only the voice of her own leaves. The little owl found that he could learn a lesson only by listening. Other owls flew by and looked at him. “You will never make a hunter if you sit there moping. You are quite old enough to search for birds and mice,” they said. “All in good time,” answered their * strange brother. “At present there is much to think about.” The world was full of curious sounds. As he grew older the little owl learned to distinguish them and to link each in his mind with that which made it. Thus he overcame his fear of the unknown and felt free to hunt with his kind. One evening the new moon spoke to him. “You think,” she said, “that I am a silver feather blown into the topmost boughs of the tree that is your home. I have often watched you looking at me. You do not know that lam also the golden disc that floods the forest with light. And, moreover, lam thousands of miles away. You are pondering the mystery of growth. I have solved it. You are warm and stirring with the perishable qualities of all living things. lam cold, but immortality has already touched me. Ponder this well and tell your brothers that the round-eyed owl may henceforth be the symbol of wisdom on the earth.” The little owl told his brothers and they, too, began adding two and two together. Now all owls do this. Sometimes they arrive at conclusions and tell them to the moon that, in its crescent days, still drifts like a silver feather above the trees that house the round-eyed dreamers of the feathered world. —REDFEATHER.