I find a photo in an old National Geographic that remains in my mind— an owl, a sky animal, wings spread wide, engaged in the beautiful work of working upstream. The owl is not looking back. It stays with the journey. There must be a reason it is swimming the river. It must need something that can only be attained through that passage.
The image is astounding, so I share the image with my friends. Later, when I’m next door holding baby goats, Dave, my neighbor says, That picture of the owl… Last night, in a dream I saw Ishkitini.
Who is that? I ask.
Owl, in my mythology, he says. Some say the owl is a bringer of death but sometimes that death is just a change. A change is coming. Yesterday I saw an owl in the cloud formations. So that makes three sightings. Ishkitini.