He is considered a bad sign, bringing bad news.
The owl is considered a bad sign illustrating
deception and bad power by most Native tribes.
It is a messenger of evil, of sickness, or of a
fatal accident. It is also considered a sign of death.
Owls hunt their prey at night, and you cannot hear
an owl flying so it takes advantage of it’s prey.
Earlier this evening, I donned my coveralls, warm clothing, knee length rubber boots and went out to brave the cold while doing my evening chores.
I exited my house thru my back door. Scooter was racing around the pasture kicking up his heels in the wet and gray.
Out at the barn, I gave the horses their feed. As I was loading Freddie’s hay rack with a big flake of hay, a movement in the front yard caught my eye.
It was a beautiful, large horned owl watching my every move.
A slow feeling of dread creeped into my spine.
I finished up my outdoor business, gave Scooter one last ear scratch and a kiss goodnight.
I slowly walked by the owl, strolled within 10 feet of it, looking into it’s hypnotic bright yellow eyes. I climbed the front porch and saw Wee One watching me thru the windows.
I cracked open the front door and whispered to Wee One to get my camera because my boots were muddy.
Hubs was laying on the couch watching the news. He has since been called back out to work because of a problem with an oxygen reading at one of the gas wells, of all the nights…
Wee One handed me my camera and I walked to the edge of the front porch and snapped off some photos of the owl.
I heard the door open behind me. Soon, Wee One was at my side in his rubber boots and a sweatshirt he had the sense to throw on.
Wee One and I stood watching the owl, the owl watched us back calmly. Wee One and I stood in silence for a couple of minutes in awe of the owl’s beauty and power, amazing were his talons….sharp as razors as he clung to his perch with his gaze upon us.
I heard the door behind us, then a gasp.
“thats a bad sign.” Hubs said.
Wee One and I stood still watching the owl. The owl turned his head to the right and flew off to the North.
I ignored hubs comment from the doorway. Wee One and I went indoors.
Hubs looks at me as I am pulling off my boots, “that is bad isnt it? you believe that don’t you?” he repeats.
“Maybe I should see about getting more life insurance.” Hubs finishes.
Yes, it is a bad omen, I believe.
I would be a liar if I said the owl visiting is not weighing on my mind a bit….
It is not the owl’s fault he is the fabled bearer of bad news,
I was sure glad when he finally flew off into the Giwaydinnoong (North Direction).
Some Native American tribes view the owl as a protector against harm and their feathers were ritually worn to ward of evil spirits.
I know a woman of the Pawnee tribe who firmly believes this. My tribe (Chippewa) also believes along those lines.
I live in the heart of Osage Territory. It is different for me living on Osage lands.
You know I am a Shakespeare fan, so I am adding his 2 cents about owls:
Shakespeare wrote of “The owl, night’s herald” (Venus and Adonis, 1593, Line 531) and recognized the role that owls have as the “fatal bellmen” (Macbeth, 1605-1606, Act II, Scene ii, Line 4) of that final deepest sleep. In this way, owls have been seen as harbingers of eschatology or the ultimate fate of humans.