When I lived in Genté I had a studio upstairs looking out over old, abandoned barns to a hillside covered with vines. One day I had that sensation of being watched and when I looked out of the window I saw this bird. It’s a “Little Owl”. Yep, that’s what it’s called. There were several Barn Owls living both in one of the old barns, and in a dovecot cut into the wall of the house, just above our front door. I’d become quite familiar with them, but I hadn’t seen a Little Owl before. I reached for my camera and took this photo. No wonder I had the sensation of being watched! Look at that gaze!
We moved to the Charente Maritime, from the Charente, four years ago. I haven’t seen any Barn Owls since. But over the last few days I’ve heard a really loud bird call at night, and, then, more often, in the daytime too. I use an app on my phone to identify birdcalls. It tells me this is the call of a Little Owl. I haven’t managed to see him yet, but I’m hearing him loud and clear. I think he’s taken up residence in the forest area at the top of the garden.
But to return to this gaze……how do we sense that we are being looked at?
It can happen in a cafe, or restaurant. It can happen in the street. Somehow, we are attuned to the gaze of others (not just other people, but other creatures too). I’m convinced it’s not about scanning the environment and just noticing who, or what, is looking our way. It happens too often that I’ll look up from a book (yeah, I do a LOT of reading) and turn in the exact direction to meet the gaze of another. I don’t know how that works.
But, we all have a need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be taken into account. Solitary confinement, “sending to Coventry”, and exile are powerful punishments. Intolerable, even. We are social creatures, and we can’t survive entirely without others. Yet, on the other hand, we can receive too much attention. We can wish for times where we aren’t noticed. We are living in a disturbing time of mass surveillance, where corporations and governments are watching, keeping an eye on us, and it’s not comfortable, or welcome.
Like so much else in Life, we have to find some kind of balance, some kind of harmony of two polar opposites. We need connections, we don’t want to be ignored or excluded. But we need privacy too, we don’t want others watching over us, following what we do, whether that’s to feed us advertisements, or policies, or to exert a control over us. And like the other balances we seek to achieve, there isn’t an end point, a place where we get to and then that’s it, we can move on. It’s a way of life.
There’s another question I have when I look at this photo. Why?
Why is this Little Owl looking at me? Why is he sitting out there on the roof, looking through the window into my studio, looking directly at me?
Fear? He’s keeping an eye on me, as a potential threat? I’m definitely no expert in bird expressions, but he doesn’t look afraid.
Because he wants to connect? Not, like have a chat, or start a beautiful friendship, but just to connect. Sometimes making a connection is enough.
Heroes Not Zombies 