The Magic of Owl Moon
I trudged through the snow on the moonlit trail,
slicing a path for my bundled ducklings
as they waddled single-file behind me...
Owl Moon stirs the poet in me. Jane Yolen’s words cast a spell, pulling me into the magic of a moonlit, owling adventure. John Schoendherr’s Caldecott-winning illustrations provide the perfect complement to Yolen’s words. He utilizes a variety of different perspectives, allowing us to fully see and experience the dark woods alongside our young friend, as she goes owling with her father for the first time.
We have read this book over and over and over again over the course of many years, and we have been inspired to engage with the themes and learn from the author and illustrator in many different ways; we have written our own poetry using Yolen-like simile and vivid descriptions. We have tried our hand at pen and watercolor winter scenes. We have studied the moon and owls and done a great deal of artwork celebrating both.
There are so many aspects of this book worth exploring, but none compares to the quiet thrill of bundling up, stepping out under a winter moon, and going owling.
When a full moon rises, the glistening snow beckons. We strap on boots (or snowshoes if it is really deep) and slip quietly along the trail that loops our property, nothing more than passing shadows. (Ok, that’s not true. We are never as quiet as we know we are supposed to be, but we do try.)
We stop every so often and make our best imitation of a great horned owl–whoo, whoo, who, who, who, whooooo–and then we wait. And we listen. We hear distant trains, distant dogs, but never an owl. But we do not lose heart. We know that “sometimes there is an owl and sometimes there isn’t.”
A few years ago, we had the opportunity to go owling at Wickiup Hill Nature Center with Chuck, a local naturalist. Chuck’s claim to fame is that he can make an owl call that sounds more like an owl than an owl does–he really does! But even Chuck struck out. No owls answered his call as we followed him with snowshoes squishing in the thawing snow. But we didn’t mind. The quiet, the listening, the moonlit shadows showing us the way was enough of an adventure.
Jane Yolen is right; you need courage and quiet to go owling but mostly you need hope. So we will continue to hold onto the hope that some night, on a moonlit hike, an owl will answer. We will hold on tight with “the hope that flies silent under a silver Owl Moon.”
For a printout that outlines some of our favorite Owl Moon inspired activities, click here.
