This raven lives in my neighborhood, and this morning I snapped this pic through the window.
I am obsessed with ravens. If that makes me a bird nerd, so be it--shoot, I know I'm not alone.
Back when Mesa Verde was deserted by humans in the winter, we'd head on up there, sit high above the spooky ruins, and watch the ravens. They'd flip and soar, sometimes silent, sometimes clacking noisily, often coming close enough to peer at us sideways through the snow-filled air.
Ravens in Denver are rare, but recently a pair took up residence in the neighbor's giant Blue Spruce. This is the other. I managed to get out the door without alarming him/her. Don't pretend to be good at photography, but I like this pic of the raven looking like a hot-shot. I can't help anthropomorphizing them--I'm a painter, not a scientist. And while I've yet to paint realistic ravens, they inspire my muse like no other animal.
Pema Chodron, in The Wisdom of No Escape*, talks about the need for humans to become more like ravens. She writes: "The wilder the weather, the more the ravens love it. They challenge the wind...at some point they just let go into the wind and let it blow them away. Then they play on it, they float on it. Hardy, fearless, playful and joyful...they've had to develop a zest for challenge and for life."
That fearlessness, joy, and zest for challenge would be a great change from the suspicion and immobility we've allowed the "news" to create in us. Ravens are fortunate--they don't indulge in fear addiction. We're lucky too, though--we can choose to refuse it.
Peace be with you (and thanks for reading)!
*Check out Pema Chodron's book. It's refreshment for the world-weary in all of us.