The other day I came home from work to find a perfect feather lying random in our front yard. It's a wing feather from a Barred Owl. To me it seemed like a missing piece from another world. It so out of place I couldn't help but pick it up. Now lying on the desk by the computer, it is just as out of place, perhaps more so.
Pondering the feather's journey stirs my imagination. Was it blown here from a swaying perch during the storms last night? Was it lost as wing struck earth in a brief struggle over dinner? A dinner of mouse, or vole, or maybe even a rabbit. Or did it simply come loose and fall to earth as the owl flew silently and peacefully overhead? I will never know.
A glimpse into another world, the feather reminds me there is unobserved mystery all around us. All around us all the time.