Poets and Crows
Finding beauty in all corners
I woke up in A Mood this morning. It’s all the cortisol and noise of the world combined with a lot of very stormy days that have made it hard to get out. Every time I opened the balcony doors, I’d take a big deep breath, feeling the relief of oxygen fresh off the ocean, but the wind drove me back inside. As much as I enjoy the intense high tides and tossing seas from my studio, beach walking is hazardous. The dogs and I have struggled out on short breaks and half the time get soaked anyway.
Which is to say, I really needed some fresh air this morning and not at dog speed. Leaving that task to my husband, I set out on a brisk walk with a podcast in my ears, a hood in case of rain, and a hunger to shake out the restlessness.
Lately, I’ve been following a guy on TikTok who posts about birds and the natural world, Kwame Opoku-Duku, a poet1 and writer who just really loves birds and likes to talk about them. Last night, I watched one about crows in which he suggested that instead of a “murder” a gathering should be called “an esteemed council” because they are so remarkably smart and are known to share information with each other.
There are a lot of crows in my world, lots and lots. I knew they could recognize humans, so I often talk to them and hope they do remember me. My granddaughters love them on the beach and we spent one afternoon last summer feeding an ever expanding number chunks of watermelon.
This morning as I topped a hill in the neighborhood nearby, a crow showed up. Thinking of Kwame's tiktok, I said hello and waited. S/he tilted her head as if to say, “I’m listening,” so I said I was glad to meet her and wasn’t it nice that we had a break in the rain to get a few things done. She listened, then flew into another tree and I walked on.
Three more crows joined her and I spoke to them, too. They talked back a little, and then one of them came down to the street and hopped along beside me, tilting his head when I spoke, meeting my eye. I kept up a little patter, nothing big, and he walked with me for nearly two blocks.
It wasn’t accidental. He was really listening to me. I’m sure there was a little hope that I had a snack in my pocket—maybe he remembered me from the beach and thought there could even be some watermelon in the offering.
As he departed, I realized that my mood had completely altered. Getting out in nature, breathing that soft air, moving my body in an easy way and then, yes, having a conversation with a crow, brought me back into the moment. Reminded me that whatever happens out there in the world, nature is right here. The night sky is full of stars. The wind blows. Winter arrives with all its drama, and after that will be the spring.
In Colorado, we had a bird feeder outside the front window, but we haven’t set one up here. I see blue jays and starlings on the balcony, and of course a million seagulls. There are racoons in the neighborhood (I spied a trio under a raised bed the other night, their eyes glowing as I pulled into the driveway), and I’m pretty sure there are some porcupines, too, so I’ll have to do some research, but I’m sure I can figure out the parameters. And maybe I’ll carry a snack or two in my pockets for the crows.
Are you a birdwatcher? Do you have a birdfeeder or other nature habit to share with us?
So pleased that you have discovered the joy of crows. Ravens are also quite personable. Enjoy!
How perfect that this post should come from you! I have always loved the SW magic aspects of your work and this year has been a Raven year for me. If you haven't read his work, you need to look into Charles deLint - he's listed as 'urban fantasy' (I hate genre labels) and writes about Celtic and Native American shapeshifters, many of whom are artists and musicians during the day :)
One book is just a collection of stories about the Crow Girls (requested by readers who loved them). Once you've read his work, you can't look at crows the same again.