On the Wing #78: Black Feather Dreamers
To say that I'm a skeptic would be an accurate statement. And yet, I often catch myself looking to sources of inspiration within nature itself. If I wasn't so fastidious when it came to what and where sources of knowledge and accurate facts came from, I'd probably be more spiritually attuned to nature and what I perceived as being the messages and lessons I could derive from it. While I find watching birds to be physically and mentally uplifting, if I were to choose one as a representative totem, it would either be a crow or a raven.
Crows and ravens have always had some mystery or dread applied to their blackness or raucous cries. They have always been seen as some sort of ancient deathly hallow or representative, but were also recognized for their intelligence. I see them almost as kinfolk. A species that because of its intellect and social structure mirrors certain behaviors that we would find to be anthropomorphic and almost human in nature and behavior.
Recently I've heard the cries of young crows as they make their way from home to the wild world beyond. No longer bound to the nest, these black feathered dreamers with their high and hoarse voices echoing over the parking lots, woodlands, and farmers fields, take in what will be their homes for the rest of their lives. It is also at this time of year, that telling young Fish (Corvus ossifragus) from American Crows (C. brachyrhynchos) becomes tedious. The Fish Crow is recognized by its nasal cah-cah call while the American has a much louder and throatier caw. However at this time of year, the young have broken, almost clanging tones to their voices. They can be compared to a teenaged boy whose voice has just recently broken and is clambering for attention and recognition.
I suppose in my scatterbrained existence over the past few weeks, I forgot what excited me about birds in general. Tasked with herding children from one natural setting to the other and trying to keep their attention for seven hours everyday is a tiring task that I hope I won't have to suffer through again. The last week of camp begins tomorrow and I'm honestly relieved. Having time back for myself and the people I care about will be wonderful, but more importantly I'll be able to focus on the birds I care about too.
All I can say is a heartfelt "Thank you" to the crows that brought me back to seeing the creatures I love so much for what and who they are.
Crows and ravens have always had some mystery or dread applied to their blackness or raucous cries. They have always been seen as some sort of ancient deathly hallow or representative, but were also recognized for their intelligence. I see them almost as kinfolk. A species that because of its intellect and social structure mirrors certain behaviors that we would find to be anthropomorphic and almost human in nature and behavior.
Recently I've heard the cries of young crows as they make their way from home to the wild world beyond. No longer bound to the nest, these black feathered dreamers with their high and hoarse voices echoing over the parking lots, woodlands, and farmers fields, take in what will be their homes for the rest of their lives. It is also at this time of year, that telling young Fish (Corvus ossifragus) from American Crows (C. brachyrhynchos) becomes tedious. The Fish Crow is recognized by its nasal cah-cah call while the American has a much louder and throatier caw. However at this time of year, the young have broken, almost clanging tones to their voices. They can be compared to a teenaged boy whose voice has just recently broken and is clambering for attention and recognition.
I suppose in my scatterbrained existence over the past few weeks, I forgot what excited me about birds in general. Tasked with herding children from one natural setting to the other and trying to keep their attention for seven hours everyday is a tiring task that I hope I won't have to suffer through again. The last week of camp begins tomorrow and I'm honestly relieved. Having time back for myself and the people I care about will be wonderful, but more importantly I'll be able to focus on the birds I care about too.
All I can say is a heartfelt "Thank you" to the crows that brought me back to seeing the creatures I love so much for what and who they are.
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