Strange behaviour

The first appearance of the owl was on one warm April morning, some months after the death of Oliver's grandmother. Oliver's mother here describes what happened.

'There was a terrific commotion outside the kitchen, caused by our garden birds. When I went out to see what all the fuss was about, the birds were dive-bombing an owl which sat on one of the lower branches of the oak tree.

'It seemed strange that an owl was out in the middle of the day, and although the small birds were trying to frighten it away, it just sat quietly in the tree.

'As the day warmed up I opened the French windows on the south side of the house. When I stepped out into the garden, there was a great flapping of wings and the owl flew down and landed in front of me on the grass.

'It was a large tawny owl about 12in high. It looked up at me with big brown eyes and mewed. It seemed very tame.

'During the day, every time I went outside, the owl would come down and stand in front of me. It was almost as if it was trying to say something. The big brown eyes looked so human and reminded me of my mother, also brown-haired, who had died the previous summer.'

The feathered visitor's strange behaviour didn't end there.

Oliver's mother continues: 'When my husband and children came home I told them about the owl but thought no more about it.

'We always sleep with our top windows open, and that night there was a lot of scuffling and rustling at the window. The owl came down to sit on the window  -  behaviour my husband didn't like at all.

'The next morning, I opened the kitchen windows. No sooner had I opened the large window over the sink, than there was a great flurry of wings and the owl flew right into the kitchen.

'It seemed best for the children and my husband to go out and close the doors while I opened the outside door, hoping to coax it outside, but it seemed to be quite at home in the kitchen.

'It flew down to the other end, and sat on the curtain rail watching me. It had a tremendous wing-span and it was remarkable that nothing was knocked over. Eventually it flew out of the window and sat on the back porch.

'When we went out to the car later that morning, it came straight down and perched on the flowerpot I was carrying. As we drove out, it sat on the gatepost watching us.

'It came down to our window again that night and to the porch the next day, but not down to my feet. After a few days it disappeared. Every now and then I would hear the sound of it nearby.'

The ability to fly has always been regarded as a magical power, the stuff of dreams.

Perhaps that is why birds have always been regarded as having an element of the supernatural and why, in so many myths and legends, they provide a link between the human world and the supernatural or divine, associated with both birth and death.

In some cultures, the human soul is believed to arrive on Earth in bird form, and in many societies, birds are seen as carriers or symbols of the human soul, flying heavenwards after death, or as guardians who guide the soul to the afterlife.

Perhaps these perplexing modern bird stories indicate the possible origin of these myths  -  or maybe they are a demonstration that these are more than simply legends.

The Art Of Dying by Peter and Elizabeth Fenwick, published by Continuum Books, is out now.

Copyright: Daily Mail