Owl vs. Modernity: Considering Abandoning Technology
by Paul Schlotterbeck
genre:
Nonfiction
description:
.
chapters
chapter 1:
.
.
chapter 1
—
updated 12/05/07
—
1897 characters
—
0 people liked it
Sometimes I just feel like becoming a completely backwards Luddite. Sometimes I just want to abandon all symbols of modernity and retreat back to Amish country.
Monday night I was driving home from my parents house and I was speeding on the interstate. As soon as I passed the Blankenbaker exit, I saw something coming towards me from the sky. And it was close.
The huge, white owl dove right in front of the Corolla. I imagine there might have been a mouse or a chipmunk scampering across the interstate, but, truthfully, that is romanticizing the situation. I barely missed this owl, and I assume if flew away. I didn't hit it. But I didn't see it fly away.
What really bothered me is that I like owls. I think they're generally pretty cool. In a perfect world, I could walk outside my home and look up in some trees and see an owl. I would at least like to think that I could live some place where I could see maybe one owl every other month. It's not a big deal. It's just a privilege I would like to have.
Now, as far back as I can remember, this is only the second owl I've ever seen that was not on television or in a cage. I mean, owls aren't an endangered species, and they're not exactly people-friendly, so I shouldn't expect to be Uncle Remus and have owls and bluebirds and squirrels and foxes perched on my open arms when I whistle in the country-side. But I wish I saw creatures like owls in nature more often.
And it freaked me out to think that the second owl I've ever seen in real life was almost killed by my '93 Corolla. It made me really upset to think that I almost clipped a huge bird. And the rest of this ride home I tried to figure out some way to make sure that I never did that again. But for the life of me, I can't figure out how I could guarantee to never hit an owl with my car. And for whatever reason, this has been eating at me.
back to top
Monday night I was driving home from my parents house and I was speeding on the interstate. As soon as I passed the Blankenbaker exit, I saw something coming towards me from the sky. And it was close.
The huge, white owl dove right in front of the Corolla. I imagine there might have been a mouse or a chipmunk scampering across the interstate, but, truthfully, that is romanticizing the situation. I barely missed this owl, and I assume if flew away. I didn't hit it. But I didn't see it fly away.
What really bothered me is that I like owls. I think they're generally pretty cool. In a perfect world, I could walk outside my home and look up in some trees and see an owl. I would at least like to think that I could live some place where I could see maybe one owl every other month. It's not a big deal. It's just a privilege I would like to have.
Now, as far back as I can remember, this is only the second owl I've ever seen that was not on television or in a cage. I mean, owls aren't an endangered species, and they're not exactly people-friendly, so I shouldn't expect to be Uncle Remus and have owls and bluebirds and squirrels and foxes perched on my open arms when I whistle in the country-side. But I wish I saw creatures like owls in nature more often.
And it freaked me out to think that the second owl I've ever seen in real life was almost killed by my '93 Corolla. It made me really upset to think that I almost clipped a huge bird. And the rest of this ride home I tried to figure out some way to make sure that I never did that again. But for the life of me, I can't figure out how I could guarantee to never hit an owl with my car. And for whatever reason, this has been eating at me.
Did you like this?
vote
