I turned from the window and found her standing so close I brushed against her as I turned. Carefully I placed my hands on her shoulders and drew her to me. As I bent to kiss her, I heard wings fluttering, feathers spreading. The kiss was brief, her lips softer and warmer then I imagined. The contact exploded in my chest, made me feel weak with the hunger of desire.

Then I felt pressure on my uninjured shoulder and looked to see the owl, its talons draped causally so their tips touched the muscles below.

“I would not harm her,” I told the amazing creature. “Not ever.”

It leaned and tilted its head so our eyes were on the same level mesmerizing. I felt invaded and also invited.

“Not ever,” I repeated in a near silent whisper.

The owl blinked. In its eyes I saw a mountainous terrain with deep valleys, blue cloudless skies lush tree filled landscape dotted with meadows and lakes throughout the floor of the valleys. At the top of view I had, I saw a single pointed ledge of flat stone, which extended far into open space from the horizontal peak of a mountain like a finger pointing out something impossible to see clearly.

Then the owl left with the same fluttering of feathers after it imprinted in my mind the vision it gave me in a microsecond. I had not moved my hands from her shoulders and she had not pulled away. Her eyes locked with mine drawing me emotionally closer, so close I thought I could feel her heartbeat through the distance between us.

I knew I was beginning a journey of the heart, and struggling against it felt more like I plundered a priceless treasure. This time when our lips met, the contact was immersion, me into her, her into me, and I was lost to her.

An hour later, sweat drying on us both, her head on my chest, eyes closed, I cried for what I’d lost, for what I’d done and not. My hand sought the warmth of her flesh, strengthening me, stabilizing my confusion and I knew something else then. I would need to find her somewhere else, perhaps even some when else. The green cabin’s purpose brought me to her, yet she was correct when she said I sought her.

On the third night while the moon was still dominate, I carefully slid out of bed, dressed, ignoring the pain, took my boots and pack and left the cabin through the rear door.

This time the path was dirt edges lined with white stones that captured the moon’s illumination and lit the path as it wound into the forest. I pulled on my boots and followed its invitation and after several minutes saw that the white owl waited ahead. As I reached it, the owl spread it wings and lead me deeper into the dense woods.

We passed the portal with the arch and went beyond until we reached what I knew must be a second portal. The owl flew into it and returned letting me know it was safe for me to do the same if needed.

Stopping to look, I surveyed a forest where every living thing was covered with a thick dense green moss. Nothing but the moss seemed alive. I glanced back at the owl. It stared impassively.