These creatures fly in every evening from all directions, mostly in pairs, to a tree right outside my room. For an hour they click, purr, squawk and chirp, fussing over who gets what branch for the night. They sit as couples, feeding and grooming each other, switching from branches now and then until at last, all are comfortable and they go to sleep.
This amazing animal has captured the attention of humans for thousands of years, and has a variety of myths attributed to them. It is thought that a raven taught Cain how to bury his murdered brother. the raven also is thought to have protected the bodies of saints until they could be recovered and properly buried. Apollo is said to have turned the raven black for bearing the news of his lover's infidelity, also related to amorous tales, the bird is thought to have been the only ones to have sex on Noah's Ark, getting them in trouble with hotel management. Rabbis once thought that the raven only had oral sex. Once you go black, you never go back, the saying goes.
Regardless, these endearing folk brighten my mornings and evenings with their social gatherings. Their chatter is in marked contrast to my solitude, and the sweetness with which the couples interact touches me. their minor competition for prime real estate in the tree reminds me of when I was a kid, and all of us children would come alive with our stories of the day, of how we would make up rules for made up games.
Another tradition sees the raven as creator of the world, spilling a box which contained the sun and stars. Thanks for bringing a little light, dark bird. I hear them waking up now.
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