By Lindsay Martell – “Isn’t she beautiful?” I asked my daughter, nudging her shoulder.

“She’s majestic,” she said, her voice part whisper and part calculated enthusiasm. Majestic has been her favorite word for at least two years, and I love it.

At that moment, we watched an owl take in the scores of faces surrounding her. We were transfixed by her beauty, her sleek lines and steely gaze.

I sat with her and my husband on a splintery bench at Carolina Raptor Center — the avian rehabilitation center tucked inside Latta Nature Preserve. It’s a favorite haunt of ours, and we visit once or twice a year, as giddy as budding ornithologists.

On a cloudy Sunday morning, we peered into the saffron-hued, shadowy eyes of Gertie, a two-year-old great horned owl (the largest owl species in North Carolina) and listened as her handler spilled handfuls of owl facts; their brilliant feather tufts (plumicorns) function as camouflage; their astonishing ability to rotate their heads a whopping 270 degrees to change their gaze; their silent predatory ways.

Gertie, along with her fellow birds of prey, remind me of how powerful, and riveting nature is away from the angsty daily stressors that squeeze my nervous system into a death grip.

Once I became blissfully de-stressed (thanks, Gertie), I braved the crowds of families with strollers and friends huddled at teeny tables at Cocotte — the bright, airy French bakery on the corner of Statesville and Bailey Road.

An Irish cream latte paired with an apple cronut that weighed as much as a hefty river rock smoothed what was left of my edges. Pastries with flaky crusts — all the cinnamon goodness — and deep, earthy coffee will do that.

As will live music, piano especially. I spent a brisk, chilly evening at Davidson College’s Music Department for its spring piano recital — a free event at the Sloan Music Center’s Tyler-Tallman Hall. I had never been before, and I was mesmerized by the venue — warm yet polished — and punctuated by a pair of stately Steinway grand pianos.

It was an enchanting way to soak in the artistry and diversity of the school’s music program. I left feeling a little less world-weary. Lighter by the sounds and prettiness of it all.

And perhaps in the most unpretty way, I’m realizing the importance of putting your whole self into something, even if you have zero idea of what you are actually doing.

This was me at a fly dance fitness pop-up class at Eleven Lakes Brewing. It was a thumping hour of heart-pounding moves that are part Zumba, part hip hop, and all me trying not to bump into anyone or kick myself. Oof. I was clumsy, sweaty, and, surprisingly, elated.

I may have felt like I was all elbows and kicks in a sea of coordinated bodies and high-fives, but I was also exhilarated by the effort, by taking that first step.

I remembered Gertie; her regal stature and ability to absorb it all.

We are all quite majestic when we finally take flight.

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Milling About is a column about life around Lake Norman, written by Lindsay Martell. The column name is a nod to life around the lake and our town’s mill history.

Lindsay Martell lives in Birkdale with her husband, daughter, and a scruffy mini mutt named Dug.