Eye Contact

Now that most of my work and social interactions take place using videoconferencing, I realize how scarce and sacred real eye contact is. Yes, you can see the other person's eyes, but where do you look so that you can both have sustained eye contact? If I look at the camera, then you can look into my eyes, but I can't look into yours.

Two deer stare me down.

I walked along one of the trails along the Cuyahoga River late this afternoon. It was cloudy and brisk; every so often, the tiniest of snowflakes hit me in the face. Spring is scarce today. A few people were out walking their dogs, but otherwise, the trail was quiet. Less than a mile in, I encountered a small herd of deer who all stood at attention and looked me straight in the eyes. I returned their gaze. Eye contact. I lingered for a while until they ran off into the woods.

On my return, I was at the apex of one of the many hills on this trail when I spotted a huge patterned wing and heard an ominous screech. It was a barred owl attempting to hunt a black squirrel about midway up a tree. The owl missed. The stunned squirrel made its way down the tree and across the path to a brushier and hopefully safer place. The owl perched in another branch. As with the deer, I gazed into its big brown eyes, and it returned my gaze in kind. Grace.

Barred Owl in the middle of the shot.
Note to self: don't leave your camera at home.

Some people speak of having totems and spirit animals. I recently learned that such terminology is cultural appropriation, so I won't perpetuate that here. But owls are definitely special animals in my life. A few summers ago, a clutch of baby barred owls lit up the decibel meter, almost as if a dementor from Harry Potter had taken up residence in my backyard. I had owl prowls on my back porch, and occasionally would be lucky enough to get a really good look like I did today.

Boris the Barred Owl (2015)

For my 33rd birthday, in the midst of a major family trauma, one of my friends reserved a private tour of a nearby raptor sanctuary where I got to meet these beautiful creatures up close and personal. When Boris (short for Aurora Borealis) looked me in the eye at mere feet away, I experienced a sense of comfort that had been eluding me for weeks. I felt that same peace tonight in the woods. Grace.

In other news, gas at the local station is $1.59/gallon. I filled my tank for less than $20, and I suppose I won't need to fill up again for a long time. Tomorrow I will see a friend in person for the last time for a long time. So many feels. I'm going to enjoy the real eye contact while I can.