Jay Burch had just moved to her Upperville studio and was driving back there from a Halloween Party about 2 a.m. in full Indian Squaw costume dress when an enormous owl leapt from tall grasses at the side of the road into her headlights. "I felt the car hit him awfully hard," Burch said. "I knew that it is extra-bad karma to harm a powerfully mystical creature like an own, so I stopped and wandered along the old country road until I spotted something white on a fence in the dim moonlight. There, upside down, wings extended, was the owl. He was tangled in a barbed wire fence and thorny vines looking absolutely helpless.

Jay found a sheet in her car and as she gently put it over the owl so she could control his movements, a stranger stopped to help. "He bit my finger with amazing beak power and resisted forcefully, but we got him untangled and wrapped snuggly so his claws were no threat."

By the time she arrived at her studio a mile away, he had managed to wiggle out of the sheet and sat calmly in the seat next to her looking at her with an innocent gaze. "I was stunned by his beauty."

Her car was an ideal cage until morning because she feared the owl was seriously injured and that she would never catch him again if she let him go. That night Jay called friends and contacts and found "The Blue Ridge Rapture Rehab," which she telephoned immediately and left a message. All that night she say with the owl and tried to sooth him with her voice and intention. "I really felt it was an honor to be this close to such a huge, beautiful bird."

Early that morning, Betty, drove up from Blue Ridge Rehab. Wearing thick gloves to handle him, she put him in a cage she had brought with her. Jay could see that his eye was injured.

As time went by, Jay learned that an eye doctor for humans had volunteered to operate on the owl's eye. When she was invited to visit the owl as he recuperated, she met three other barred owls, some hawks and tiny owls in varying stages of recuperation.

After several months, Betty called Jay and invited her to join her and the ophthalmologist who had saved the owl's eye when the owl would be released. "We met in a huge field near his territory and set him free. As we watched him fly to the tallest tree top, all we could say was 'Wow!' But the story doesn't end with the owl's release. A year went by and one mid-summer afternoon, as Jay drove along an old dirt road, she suddenly stopped the car with a need to survey the trees closely. "It seemed odd to me, but as I looked closely, not six feet away, were two baby barred owls on a branch to my left. Looking further, I spotted two more baby barred owls perched on a branch to my right. They resembled finials or decorations on a gate to paradise. I was transfixed by how beautiful, how still and how close they were."

Then, from a tree much farther away, an enormous adult owl swooped in, fed each one and flew away. "I am 90% positive that it could not possibly be the same owl I rescued, but it is within the realm of possibility. Why did I stop there? Why precisely at that moment?"

It is these thoughts and memories that form the origin of Jay's beautiful owl painting shown here. She has learned a lot about barred owls since she rescued one. They are attracted to light because insects populate light and it often signals a feast. Because of this, unfortunately, headlights attract barred owls. They need low, swamp-like places for habitat and pine tree plants can disturb or ruin their territory. They fear one larger hawk and human activity.

She has also learned that there is real magic to be discovered if one makes a commitment to be sensitive and responsive to living with beautiful creatures and their habitat. "If we make a commitment to protect these wonderful nature spirits and the hidden places they inhabit, I promise you, your life will be better."