A raven’s cawwing, a curious connection

A tiny respite in fear and grief

I softly spoke “Good morning, gorgeous being” to the silhouette on the lamp post to the left in front of me, sun in my eyes.
A quiet caww, caww, caaaaaww.
One foot in front of the other, I continued down the path.

A sweep of black, up into a branch in the tree above and before me.
“Oh, you are just so cheeky - look at you, you’re beautiful. Good morning to you.”
A quiet caww, caww, caaaaaww.
An incline of the head.
A blink.
She tucks her wings in and stares at me.
A quiet caww, caww, caaaaaww.
One foot in front of the other, I continued down the path.

The soft brush of air against my cheek and arm, an inky feathered leap to a fence before me.
A quiet caww, caww, caaaaaww.
An incline of the head.
A blink.
The flash of pink lips, a babe still wanting to be fed.
“Oh, you are divine, look how your feathers shine of midnight and inky love letters. Tell me everything, from the beginning. I want to know it all.”

A chattering kraaa kraa, and we are both distracted by a butterfly
flittering close to her beautiful black face.
My feet keep in movement, but it seems that time pauses,
and for a moment I am entirely present.
I see the butterfly through my own hazel green eyes.
I see the butterfly through walnut brown eyes flecked with amber.
And there is wonder more vast than all the oceans.
I want to stay in this second forever. 

The image of her curiosity, her intense attention in that moment,
forever emblazoned in my mind.

A blink.
She looks back to me.
An incline of the head.
I am grinning like a child, in awe of this reciprocity, of this exchange of being.  
One foot in front of the other, I continued down the path.

I hear her behind me, sweeping around my back and to my right,
landing further on the fence to the left ahead of me.
More graceful than any dancer could aspire to.
A quiet caww, caww, caaaaaww.
She tucks her wings in and stares at me.
I am cooing now, making my own clicking noises, interjected with superlatives of wonder.

I don’t want to break my stride.
I am afraid I will break this magic with it.
As I get closer she hops further down the fence.
A springy sideways bounce.
A quiet caww, caww, caaaaaww.
A chattering kraaa kraa.

She does not shy from my gaze. 
This exchange is intentional, one wild heart to the other,
and I am overwhelmed with a simple joy.

I am cooing now, making my own clicking noises, my eyes lined with silver.
“Oh you are so special, look at you, beauty wrapped in the velvety cloak of dreams. You are so very clever, dear one, I adore you. Thank you, my sweet, thank you.”
A quiet caww, caww, caaaaaww.
A chattering kraaa kraa.

And twice more she hops down the fence in front of me, curious, keeping connection, but keeping safe from arms that would sweep her into embrace.

And then another walker approaches from the other direction, and she alights,
a LOUD caww, caww, caaaaaww, taking the night into the morning sky.

One foot in front of the other, I continued down the path.

The hardship of this year continues.

My beloved brother in intensive care and gravely ill.

My family in shock and trying to reconcile the swirling miasma of grief and fear with thankfulness and hope.

White water rafting rapids of extreme emotions, a full body experience, requiring presence and focus and a complete awareness of it all, and a complicated, reluctant, dance with surrender. 

This has been the longest four days ever.

On my short walk yesterday morning, more important now than ever, the youngest of the three raven fledglings decided I was worthy of attention. Her curiosity was a holding of my heart between feathered fingers, and for those few short minutes I felt like I could breathe, really breathe, deep and into my belly again.

She reminded me of resilience and joy.

Of wonder and the rarity of presence.

Of the impermanence of it all, and the beauty that weaves it all together.

Of how it is both impossible and necessary to hold it all, even if that means letting it flow like water through tired hands, so it is there to scoop back up when you can hold those fingers together more tightly.

May you dance with another wild hearted being today, to remember your own brilliance and wonder.

The Wild Sketchbook Sanctuary is open!
A four week adventure, The Wild Sketchbook Sanctuary is more than tutorials. It is more than mindset work. It is more than supportive practises for you to implement. It embraces the complex, multifaceted nature that creating is, providing spaciousness for your humanity, encouraging your curiosity, and empowering your connection to the wild that inspires you.

Join the FREE Sketchbook Sanctuary community here on Substack!

Sketchbook Sanctuary