_The Owl_ With quiet step and careful breath we rubbered over grass and stone, seeking that soft light-feathered bird among the trees where it had flown. The twisting road ran down beside a straggling wood of ash and beech; between us and the shadowed trees a wire-fence topped the whin-spiked ditch. We stood and gazed: the only stir, of dry leaves in the topmost boughs; the only noise now, faraway, the cawing of the roosting crows. And as we watched in waning light, our clenched attention pinned upon that empty corner of the wood, it seemed the quiet bird had gone. Then, when the light had ebbed to dusk, you moved a hand and signalled me. I saw the little pointed ears beside a tall and narrow tree. A further signal, and I moved in wide half-circle to surprise the feathered stump beside the tree that watched you watch with steady eyes. But when I came by easy stealth, at last, within a yard or two, the brown bird spread enormous wings, and rose, and quietly withdrew. And we were left to carry home a sense no mortal will devised, that, for one instant out of time, we had been seen and recognised.                                     JOHN HEWITT # Explanation