Owls and ends

Fragments from a freaky weak:

We're in the middle of a class discussion of Cold Mountain, not quite at the end so trying to avoid spoilers, and suddenly a student's face lights up and she says, "Now I understand the ending!" Moments like that are what I live for.

Also, owls. We've heard owls at night and seen owl pellets around our property, but last night, for the first time since moving to the woods 10 years ago, I saw an owl in the wild. I was driving along our country road in the dark when suddenly a flash of feathers and wings swooped past in front of my car so quickly I could barely register its presence. The immense wingspan, mostly white underneath, suggests either a barn owl or a great horned owl, but I didn't see the head or hear the call so I can't say for sure. But it felt like a blessing.

An owl confers a blessing in the section of Rudolfo Anaya's Bless Me, Ultima discussed in my American Lit class today. Who, seeking a blessing, runs to owls? Antonio, apparently.  I haven't taught this text for years but its beauty nearly takes my breath away.

As does Toni Morrison's "Recitatif," also discussed this morning. How did we manage to work the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle into a discussion of Morrison's stunning story?

And speaking of stunning, we've lived so long with wretched weather that the return of sunshine and spring seem to have left us all stunned and speechless, wandering around with our arms out in appreciation as if to say, "It came back! The sunshine came back!"

So maybe the sun really will come out tomorrow--and if it does, so will the canoe!