Under the Same Sky

It was a calm night, the air was still. The only sounds that she so far had  heard, was the annoying chirping of the crickets. Clarissa stood there and waited as time seemed to stand still. She was waiting  for the sign, she knew it would come, but what was taking so long?

Everything was too still. Where was the giant flash in the sky?  She had hoped that she would see a shooting star.  Not one shooting star though did she see amidst so many of the other stars in the night sky.

A shooting star surely would be a sign that she was doing the right thing, making the right decision.  Perhaps she would get serenaded by the call of the nightingale. It would also be such a delight to hear a hermit thrush sing, that could be her sign.

With anticipation she strained her ears to hear. She  heard a sound, but it was far from melodic. Where was it coming from?  Clarissa  turned and saw the swamp in the distance  and the shadow of the heron, it had one of  the most raspiest  calls she had ever heard. It hurt her ears.

Sighing, she hung her head, this wasn’t working. She had come out into nature to find an answer but it appeared futile. No shooting star, no rolling thunder, no beautiful birds singing, just a raspy heron and bull frogs croaking.

“Whooo-whooo- ”  Clarissa looked up and saw a  barn owl perched up high in a tree.

She shook her head in despair. . Not “who-who” she thought to herself,  her heart was asking where-where? Where was the clear sign to the answer she sought? Clarissa turned around, frustrated, she headed home wondering why she had come out tonight.

 

The stars were out in the bright night sky and the air was still as Pamela stared at the glorious sight.  Millions of stars twinkling above her, and the crickets symphony she heard. She took in a deep breath of the fresh air and felt peace surround her.

No nightingale’s did she hear, but  what was making that sound. It was unique, she hadn’t heard it before. She took a little walk over towards the swamp where the sound was coming from and then she saw it. It was a Black-crowned night heron. How cool to see one of them!

She sat down on a log to watch it call out to its mate with a raspy voice. The bullfrogs joined him in a croaky chorus and she couldn’t help but smile. The heron and bullfrogs were calling out as loudly as they could. They may not sound as sweet as the hermit thrush, but they didn’t care. Slowly Pamela started singing a song of her own. One that she usually sang in the privacy of her room, wanting no one else to hear.

After singing she sat there for awhile lost in her thoughts. She was so glad had come out tonight to clear her head. She felt refreshed from the decision that had been weighing her down, she just  had to be alone with her thoughts for awhile.

As she started to head back home,  she heard “Whooo-Whoooo..”  Oh, how her heart jumped at the sight of the beautiful Barn Owl perched high in the tree. Her eyes  watched it as it spread out its wings. She gasped at its beauty taking flight into the night.

Pamela’s heart was full. A clear answer she may not have, but she felt more confident and trusted that in time her answer would come.

She sighed with contentment, continuing her walk and listening to her heart speak.