Even in harsh daylight, the barn owl loses none of its mystery. Its heart-shaped face, as white as porcelain, seems to catch the sunlight itself, reflecting it like a pale moon. But it is those eyes that hold you. Not deep night pools now, but two coal-black, shining beads, piercing and unyielding. They stare at you with an intense, almost prehistoric gaze, a silent challenge in the bright light.
Its plumage, a softly veined pattern of sandy brown and ivory, lies perfectly still. Without the veil of darkness, each feather becomes sharp and tactile, a testament to his grace. He sits motionless, a ghostly apparition in the reality of the day, and his direct gaze negates the sun. He reminds you that the wildest mystery does not just lurk in the night, but can exist right in front of you, brightly lit and as penetrating as ever.
Passionate hobby photographer with specialty in landscapes and portraits.
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