As a child, I spent countless hours looking up into the dun sky scouting for owls. My grandmother Artemisia said as they were the wisest of all beasts, you could if you really tried see them hover taking wing to the hidden school nestled guardedly in a furtive cave. These tales spun by the warmth of her bed, recounted the enigmatic triumph of The secret schools in Greece under Ottoman rule preserving the language under the steer of orthodox monks. It was said that children faced peril following the wise owls under the cloak of darkness to the caves of knowledge.
And so in vain I watched the night skies, ever dutiful, ever romantic, but alas no wise owls did shepherd on those Delphian nights.
steph & gaia Night Song Toile owl in House & Garden Magazine.
steph & gaia 