I was just trying to mind my business, half-awake on the evening train, when I noticed her. Blonde hair kind of wild, flannel shirt, a canvas bag on her lap, and an actual owl perched right on her shoulder like it was the most normal thing in the world.
At first, I thought I was seeing things. People kept sneaking glances, but nobody said anything. The girl didn’t even look up—just kept reading her book, every now and then turning the page with one hand while the owl blinked slow and serious, like it was reading along with her. I have no idea how you get an owl to chill on public transport, but this bird looked totally unbothered, just scanning the train like it had somewhere important to be.
I kept sneaking looks, trying to figure out her deal. Who brings an owl on the subway? Is that even allowed? She didn’t seem nervous about getting caught, though. The owl would nuzzle her hair or shift its talons, and she’d just scratch its head without breaking her focus from the page.
My stop was coming up, but I found myself frozen. Something about the scene felt like I was witnessing a tiny, unexplainable piece of magic on an ordinary Tuesday evening. The train hummed along, lights flickering in the dim car, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from this girl and her owl.
As my stop approached, I finally stood up, ready to walk toward the door, but then she looked up. I don’t know why, but her eyes met mine, and for a brief second, there was an understanding between us. Her eyes weren’t wide or startled, as if she had caught me staring. No, it was something different, almost like she knew I had questions. Then, she smiled softly.
“Have a good evening,” she said, her voice calm and warm, as if we were old friends. And just like that, she went back to her book, the owl still perched with unbothered grace.
The train doors opened, and I stepped off, feeling like I had just witnessed something that didn’t belong in the ordinary world. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all evening. Who was she? Why was she on the subway with an owl? What did she want from life, and why did she seem so… content?
Over the next few days, I couldn’t shake the image of her off my mind. I found myself taking the same train at the same time, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again, but she never showed. It became a quiet obsession—wondering if she was real, or if I had just dreamed it up. Maybe it was the stress of my job, the constant rush of daily life. Maybe I was just searching for something different, something to break the monotony.
Then, a week later, I spotted her again. Same owl. Same flannel shirt. Same book, this time a thick hardcover that she was marking with a highlighter. I stood there, hesitant, my heart thumping as if I were about to do something crazy. I don’t know what came over me, but I walked up to her, standing at the edge of the seat.
“I saw you last week,” I said, my voice coming out awkwardly. “With the owl.”
She looked up at me, and for a second, I thought I might have made a huge mistake, but then she smiled. It wasn’t a judgmental smile, not a weird or “I’m-too-cool-for-you” kind of smile. Just… genuine.
“Yeah, that’s him,” she said, her voice soft but clear, pointing to the owl. “His name’s Sage.”
“Sage?” I repeated, chuckling. “You named your owl Sage?”
She laughed. “It seemed fitting. He’s wise beyond his years.”
I stared at the owl, who blinked at me with eyes that seemed both knowing and completely unfazed. “How do you even get an owl to stay with you like that?” I asked. “Isn’t it, I don’t know, dangerous?”
She shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Not really. Sage is a trained companion. We’ve been together for a long time. I’ve taught him a few things, and he’s learned to trust me. People think he’s unusual on the subway, but he’s part of my daily life. It’s not dangerous if you know how to care for him.”
There was something in her words that made me pause. She spoke so naturally, like having an owl on her shoulder was as normal as walking a dog through the park. I had so many questions, but I didn’t know where to start. She must have sensed my confusion, because she added, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here, huh? On this train, with an owl?”
I nodded, feeling a little embarrassed that she could read me so well.
“I’m just living my life,” she said with a smile. “I don’t follow the rules everyone else does. Life’s a lot more interesting when you let go of the things you think you’re supposed to do.”
Her words stayed with me long after the train ride ended. I couldn’t help but think about how she lived. How easy it seemed for her to break free of the traditional expectations, to just do what made her happy, even if it was strange to others. I, on the other hand, had been stuck in a rigid routine for years—work, home, repeat. I never let myself step outside the boundaries of what was expected. And it wasn’t until that moment, on that subway, that I began questioning why I lived the way I did.
The next few weeks, I found myself trying to embrace the idea of living differently. I started small—taking a different route to work, eating lunch somewhere new, striking up conversations with people I might have otherwise avoided. I even began going for walks in the park with no particular destination in mind, something I hadn’t done in years. I didn’t have an owl on my shoulder, but I was beginning to feel like I was letting myself become more… alive.
Then, one evening, I saw her again. This time, she was sitting on the bench, not with an owl on her shoulder, but with a journal open in front of her. Sage was perched on a nearby railing, staring out into the night, his feathers fluffed up as if he were deep in thought. It was almost poetic, the way they both seemed to be lost in the world together.
This time, I didn’t hesitate. I sat beside her.
“You’re back,” she said, looking at me with a smile. “I thought I might see you again.”
I smiled back, feeling a little braver than the first time. “I think you might be right. I’ve been trying to live a little differently.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And how’s that going?”
“It’s… good,” I said slowly, not entirely sure how to explain it. “I’m starting to realize that I’ve been too stuck in my head. I’ve spent so much time worrying about what’s expected of me that I forgot how to live for myself.”
She nodded, as if she understood exactly what I meant. “That’s the thing. People get so caught up in trying to fit in that they forget to just… be. Life’s not about following rules or doing what everyone else does. It’s about finding joy in the little things, even if they seem out of place. Like this.” She gestured to Sage, who was now looking at us both curiously. “People think I’m weird for having him. But he’s my reminder that the world can be different than what they say it should be.”
I nodded, deeply moved by her words. “I think I needed to hear that,” I said quietly.
She smiled again, but this time, it was more knowing, as if she had been waiting for me to come to this realization. “The world will always tell you what you should do. But only you get to decide who you want to be.”
I left the subway station that night with a different sense of clarity. There was a weight lifted off my chest, a weight I hadn’t even realized was there until it was gone. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had the power to shape my own path, to be true to myself and embrace the parts of life that didn’t always make sense to others.
And just as I thought about the girl with the owl, I realized the twist in it all. By meeting her, I had learned that living authentically was the most freeing thing you could do for yourself. But more than that, I realized the karmic truth: sometimes, the universe sends you the people you need to meet—unexpectedly, in strange places, at just the right time—so that you can find your own way.
It was her owl on the subway that made me question everything. And in the end, it was the owl that helped me see the world differently.
If you’ve ever been stuck in a routine, afraid to step outside the lines, maybe it’s time to embrace the unexpected. Life’s full of little moments that can change everything—just like a girl with an owl on a subway.
If this story resonated with you, share it with someone who needs a reminder to live authentically.
