We all have special talents. Some, like Italy’s Michaelangelo or Bernini, could transform Carrara marble into statues, carvings of such splendor that a stone human hand seemed to actually press upon flesh. Others are more modest. We have the wise friend, who counsels caution or reminds us to have a sense of humor.

Then come the artisans. As you know, we Owls can wing our way over the Tennessee River without using a bridge. Now, admittedly, we’re tired when we reach landfall. Then, however, we are handsomely rewarded when we visit, for example, Decatur’s Red Clay Fine Arts Festival.

This year, Decatur outdid itself. Artists from all over the country were there. Sandi Castor, an all-time favorite, makes “cityscapes” from “found objects.” That means, she finds tiny cheese scrapers, dominoes, and pillboxes; shapes them into recognizable “buildings;” and voila, a city scene which would grace any home wall! It took only a second to recognize Decatur’s famous railroad bridge, made from carefully arranged metallic shards. Then, on closer inspection, my Eye was astounded to discover other known town features. More marvel awaited when Ana Maria Andricain’s “Jewels of Havana” came into view. Her mother, a refugee from Castro’s Cuba, arrived in America with only her jewelry sewn into her clothes. In memory of her daring mother — and a host of other influences — Ms. Andricain has created magnificent, meaningful jewelry. Each stone tells a unique story. DeAnn Meely can be found on Bank Street, where professional art is displayed for all to visit. Corinna Nicole does “swarm art.” Fascinated one day by the “art work” of thousands of orchestral, united wild birds “waving” in the distant sky, she decided to share her meditative impressions with the world. Thus, her paintings of that collective behavior, of thousands of wending, symphonious birds are at once peaceful, inspiring, and marvelous. To create this, she uses either “controlled splatter,” or “stippling.” The latter technique is quite simply thousands of individual dots, carefully arranged for best meditative effect. “ChromAddict” Carrie Alderfer might entice you to visit her studio at Lowe Mill in Huntsville. There, expect to enjoy art and design to “color your space happy.” A true gem of magic was Carol McCrady’s art. Her displays of Celtic masterworks are on papyrus paper she made herself. Colors that draw the viewer into mysteries allow us to search out hidden dragons, or marvel at the Celtic Tree of Life. McCrady’s studios on Etsy are magnificent homages to an ancient art form from long ago ancestors. From away in Madison, Miss., Solomon Goldbas designs with wood. His carving blocks, made from special alternating woods, appear to have been woven together! Additionally, his knives’ handles are worthy of being heirlooms. Edward and Patricia Heerten of McCalla take wood in a wholly different direction. Their exotic woods hide secret drawers! Cleverly designed, these pockets are concealed in a magnificent, natural-appearing wooden Owl, or in an African blood-red burl.

The joy of hearing professional musicians in the background tied the event together in a seamless manner. With employment of various instruments to soothe even a frayed Owl, we discovered how arts events are worth every moment devoted to making them happen. Everyone contributes. Everyone has a gift. Not only did we hear “Hooray, you are the thousandth Red Clay attendee so far today” only a couple hours into the event, but we know it also will continue to be a clarion success. Why? An entire tent was devoted to young school age artists. Was not Michealangelo discovered at only 15? Art teachers from all the various schools displayed works by their students. Each and every one of them was careful in studying perspective, color, wit, and intuition in creating wonders out of ink, paint, colored pencils, and graphite. Our Valley has a lot to look forward to.

Even the sidewalk was worth a stop! Behold, they proclaimed, street artists who used chalk to reveal pleasant scenes were alone worth the price of admission. We discussed the various charms of “happy skunks” with one fine artist of the pavement. I offered my observations on skunk smells, which she accepted as one would the opinion of an Owl.

Over and over again I was happy to see utterly unexpected wonders. In fact, a dog-enthusiast created stunned silence as his 160 pound hound, an obvious thoroughbred, passed in review. Present, too, were writers of local lore, sellers of fantastic beverages on a hot, hot day and the sea of food vendors who made sure we left full and happy. Yes, I wanted to “do this again” as one young kid said.