A Long, Long (Long) Story (Part II)

I logged into my e-mail account to get the contact information and call the intern supervisor. I received a new e-mail from SCA regarding the Yellowstone internship. "Unfortunately the position you applied for in Yellowstone National Park has been canceled, please apply to our other internships we have available." No! Is this how it was going to be? I was not going to get anything that I wanted. I was frustrated; I politely called the SCA office to see what was going on. "How come I was not getting any internship opportunities?" I asked. The woman I spoke with said that many budgets for national and state parks were being cut, and that meant internships would be one of the first to go. She also said that the time I have available to participate in internships is so narrow, and most employers would rather chose an intern with whom they would not have to negotiate start and end dates. She said that I should definitely call Lisa Hayward, the woman in charge of the owl internship, and give it a chance.

I was not excited about this internship possibility. I would be going to Shasta National Forest, not nearly as impressive to me, to hang out with owls and watch them poop. I decided to give Lisa a call anyway to hear more about the job. I did not get a hold of Lisa right away, but she quickly responded to the message I left regarding my "interest" in the project. She said that my application was on the top of about 40 applications, and that my references were excellent and really stood out. Her flattery was warming me up to the internship. She described the internship: I would be working very intimately with the threatened Northern Spotted Owl to help collect data to assess the affect of off-highway vehicles on the hormone levels of owls in the wild. I would spend more time with this owl than most biologists who study the owl do, and get to know them very personally. She explained how rare an opportunity this was, very few people will ever see a Northern Spotted Owl in the wild, and they may not be around for much longer.

The information she was telling me floored me. I was really disappointed in myself. I was so caught up in doing something impressive, that I almost didn't give a chance to do something important, which is what attracted me to this field in the first place. She offered me the position on a Friday. I talked it over with my family, my excitement growing, and accepted the position on Monday, two and a half weeks before the position was scheduled to begin.

Little did I know that would be the beginning of my owl obsession. Those who encounter me quickly learn that I have a little fixation with owls (spotted ones, in particular). I work them into conversations quite fluidly and frequently, and people probably think I am a crazy cat lady, but with owls. Yes, many people know of that part of me, but very few people understand it. Partly because I’m not very good at explaining it, and partly because, well, it’s a long story that soon people become bored with and don’t understand. I did journal entries of that summer and when I had typed those entries up, it turned out to be a 59-page account; see what I mean?
Here’s the short of it. The spotted owl means two things to me. Here’s the first. When I first encountered the spotted owl, it stared deeply into my eyes, like no other being ever has, as if it were analyzing the most secretive and hidden chambers of my heart and soul. I felt completely naked from the inside out, and I knew this creature was so much bigger, greater, and wiser than I was. He seemed to sum me up, and gather whether or not it was I who was worthy enough to be in his presence. He humbled me and I felt so little next to him.

That summer I learned about the intimacy and love that owls share for their family, they are not mechanical; they have fears, joys, sorrows, and many other emotions. And I learned how insignificant people are and how if you just let yourself be vulnerable to the wild, you will realize that you are no more than one of millions of species on this planet; no more or less important than the others. John Muir once questioned the loyalty he had to his own species; he wondered why he regarded humans with less favor, feeling a sense of betrayal and guilt to his own kind. I too feel a higher sense of regard for those not of my genus and understand that conflict. Gifford Pinchot’s motto was “The greatest good, for the greatest number,” valuing the sustainment of humans over all other creatures, though he did so with conservation in mind because he understood the need for it to exist in order for us to exist. John Muir believed in allowing the natural world to exist for its own sake, and not for people’s sake; for it has every right to exist as much as we do. That day that I met that owl, in only a second, a moment, an instant, as he was sizing me up and evaluating my character, I converted from the ideals of Pinchot, to the religion of Muir.

The second of what spotted owls mean to me, is they are a symbol of that summer. Everything changed that summer for me. The owl is a symbol of what I learned and how I grew. I came to the forest ignorant and not knowing what to expect. I had visualized the hiking and the waiting for owl scat, but what I experienced was deeper. I had a kind of camaraderie with the other researchers that only comes from instances in life where everything depends on each person to be fully present and active in their role. I was pushed to give my all, and there were moments when I was so proud of myself because I had gone beyond what I had ever thought I could do. I was also proud of my mission. When I was in the Navy I learned about hard work, but I never owned my mission or felt as though the mission was dependent on me. I felt needed to complete this mission in the forest, as if it would not be successful without me.

I learned about other people and relationships. I learned that one’s walls could be taken down completely and that one could trust and rely on another person as intimately as a lover, a child, or a parent. I learned about the successes of others, and how obtainable success is if you believe in yourself. I learned that the only limitations in life are the ones you put upon yourself. I learned that when you feel like giving up, press on a little longer and often what you receive for your persistence is more rewarding than if you stopped trying. I learned that you’re always going to have insecurities and fears, but to take chances no matter how scared you are. I learned that quiet moments with yourself and a good book or an issue of National Geographic are priceless. I learned about living with excess, that happiness lies not in what you own, but in the relationships you have with other people and the natural world, as well as the choices you make in this life. I learned the value of positive thinking and courage. I learned how kind the hearts of friends could possibly be. I learned to be more curious and to never stop learning even if your head feels full.

I learned about the wilderness. That the most frightening things in the forest are not the animals you might encounter, but the people. I learned that bugs are not gross, nor is owl poop. I learned what it was like to have an intimate relationship with a wild animal, and to care about its survival so much, even though it could probably care less about you. I learned the sounds and smells of the forest, and when I’m away I miss them very much. I miss the cicada’s electrical chime, the distant hooting of a spotted owl, and yes, even the squawking Steller’s jay. I learned about the different kinds of owls, their different sounds and habits, as well as other birds of the forest.
I learned about the struggles of living in a small community in the middle of nowhere; the difficulties and challenges of surviving and bringing up a family. I learned to be humble, simple, and not so judgmental. I learned the views of the loggers, the hopelessness of drugs, and the folksy fun of a town all gathered in one place for a night of music, drinks, and release. I learned about the strengths of a small community, as well as the downsides to a place “where everybody knows your name.”

I truly met the best people in the world that summer. I am blessed. I know I have been given this experience for a reason, to improve myself as a person and to improve this world with my new knowledge. The initial impression I had on the project is no longer a thought in my mind. I am disappointed that I felt as if it was insignificant, but I am pleased that I have grown. I had the thought that this was just a silly bird and I wanted to do greater things, but now I know that this thing is much greater than I am. The noble and divine spotted owl forever humbles me.
Now I hope you understand my crazy little obsession.