The Natural World, or My Raven Friend

Having never studied the natural world scientifically, I am free to make my own study through direct observations.  As part of this study I include myself. 

As I drew the drape this morning to look out at my back garden, I saw that it had almost lightly rained during the night so that the parched pale color of the dry grass had taken on the vivid hues of golden straw tinged with chartreuse.  Autumn had arrived in my garden during the night! 

Walking out of my front door to look from the porch I saw my new friend the hummingbird once more perched on the chicken wire wrapped around my fledgling apricot tree that the deer have been eating.  He was only twelve feet away and as we looked at each other with great interest he began speaking to me in a flurry of scratchy chatter that ended abruptly.  Though I do not know how to speak "hummingbird," I found myself chattering back and he immediately responded.  We kept up this exchange until he became bored with my observations and flew off. 

For some time now I have maintained a bird bath and scattered crumbs for the birds in my yard to eat.  The usual visitors to the patio are sparrows and plain brown birds, with more exotic travelers making brief drop-in visits. 

One day I watched a pair of ravens walk up the driveway as they assessed the space of the patio to see if quick exits were possible.  I thought they were a couple, with one of them being more adventurous than the other.  He(?) was the one who became my raven friend. 

Standing one morning at the kitchen sink to begin my breakfast I looked out the window to the patio garden.  Startled, I found my raven friend on the pergola just outside the window.  My immediate response was shock at finding that someone was watching me.  But then I felt that I must be special to have the pleasure of his company at my kitchen window. 

Many mornings I greeted him from the pergola, taking his arrival as my queue to refresh the birdbath and sprinkle crumbs.  Sometimes he would fly in special food, using the birdbath to help make the big bits smaller.  One time it looked like a piece of fried chicken.  

As he watched me through the window, I began to ask him questions.  He was very interested in the sounds I was making and one time I tried singing "Molly Malone" to him as he responded by making unusual gestures with his head.  I imagined him asking: "What kind of sounds are these?"  Evidently, he had never heard singing, although maybe he was thinking "This is the worst singing I've ever heard!" 

My friend has been visiting me for almost two years but I haven't seen him often during this difficult dry summer.  Once again, the smoke and the fires are with us.  I always know him because of his slight limp, as well as other characteristics, but lately his feathers have lost their beautiful black glossy patterns.   I can see how he is struggling with exhaustion, though he still has his manly brow and black shining eyes. 

One important thing I've learned in my study of the natural world is what I have discovered about myself regarding sensing and instincts.  I did not know I had interest in or aptitude for such a study until I began to be free from the self-centered way I learned to live when I was a child. 

I am no different than others in having been trained to live through my thoughts.  One of my advantages has been a necessity to rely on my hands in order to earn a living.  I learned early on that my hands are smarter than I am.  My hands do not make thoughts, but they tell me things. 

My appreciation for ravens began years ago as I watched them put walnuts out on the road for the cars to drive over.  They would stand off to the side to see if they had placed the nut properly, venturing out onto the quiet street to position them more accurately if they thought it necessary.  

My first special encounter with a raven was when I had become very angry with someone, which is unusual for me.  I was so angry that I had to get out of my house and go for a walk.  As I fumed down the sidewalk a raven flew, circling around my head calling out to me in a loud persistent voice: "You are polluting the world with your anger!  Stop now!!"  Instinctively I knew he was going to continue following me making noise equal to my inner rage.  Feeling a fool, I found it easy to follow his admonitions and grateful as I felt my anger fly away.