The Day I Flew
© Robin Easton – All Rights Reserved
The other day was gray and cold, just above zero degrees Fahrenheit, with fierce wind. Although the house was warm, the walls were closing in on me. I can only take so much "indoors". Despite the cold, I rugged up with a gazillion layers of clothing and went for a hike across the high desert. There wasn't another human in sight, but far on the north horizon soared a single raven.
Over the years I've learned to talk with ravens. I'm able to call them in until they fly mere feet above my head. Usually they stay only long enough to check me out and talk awhile. Then they move on. This gray day I tipped back my head and called to the lone raven, then patiently waited. As he flew closer, we cawed back and forth. Eventually, I noticed another raven coming from the west, then another, and another, ravens coming from every direction, until twenty crows circled the sky above me.
As I’ve listened to ravens and observed their language, I’ve slowly felt my way into the meaning of their various calls, just as a baby feels its way into the meaning of its parents’ words. I've learned not to use the raven's sharp warning call. It drives them away and says, "This is my territory! Go away! Danger! Intruder!" However, they have many other sounds that I am slowly mastering.
I made a soft chortle in my throat; one I'd previously had trouble making. This time it worked and brought the ravens in closer than ever. They slowly circled fifteen feet above me.
I could see their heads tip to better see me, curious as they flew over. They even looked at each other as if to ask, "What is she? She makes our sound, but looks like one of the big ones who pass through here?" I felt both their caution and intense curiosity.
They dropped closer and closer as I talked with them. Two of them flew so low I felt the whoosh of huge black wings on my face. Although they circled lower and closer, I stood completely calm. I could feel their intentions. I can't begin to tell you what it's like to experience another species’ intelligence and knowing. I wish I could, but I think it is something that must be felt.
As they flew closer, the ravens slowed way down. Not once did they dive bomb, which birds will sometimes do if they feel threatened. These ravens were unbelievably gentle, and glided slowly over my head. I could see their eyes, beaks, tucked-under feet, intricate layers of feathers, their utter magnificence.
Compelled, like a child, I held out my arms and one of them almost landed on my forearm, but at the last minute lifted gracefully upward. He did this a couple of times, almost landing. He moved in slow motion, as he softly, intimately chortled, then flew past.
At first, I was disappointed that he didn't land, but I dropped my arms and thought, "No, I don't want to teach them to land on humans. That's not a good thing. Not all humans are safe for ravens or other wildlife." I've heard of people who shoot them. Dear god, no.
It suddenly hit me that this magnificent lead-raven was trying to get me to fly, to come with him. He was patiently showing me how it was done, like a tender parent teaching a child to walk. I also realized that when I lowered my arms, I signaled to him that I was not going to fly.
I was learning how quickly these beautiful, intelligent beings understood me and the world they live in. Humbled and in tears, like a great awakening, it hit me that these ravens had accepted me into their 'tribe'. They actually loved me, and were including me into their family. They were begging me to come with them.
I desperately hungered to lift my arms and do what I had done in a thousand nighttime-dreams...FLY. I raised my arms again and sobbed as my spirit flew with the ravens. In my most intimate chortle, I told them I would always fly with them. They understood my tears and heart. Wild Ones always understand. As they flew off, they circled back a little way, gently cawed, trying once more to entice.
Finally, the large lead raven flew back to me, a solo dot against a gray sky. He glided past my face, so slowly, time stopped. His wing tips caressed my brow. One glossy black eye stared into mine. Tears ran down my face as I felt him…feeling me…and understanding, soul to soul.
I left my spirit on the high desert, soaring with ravens, and I went home infused with their extreme intelligence and love. To touch the Divine leaves us forever changed.
(c) Robin Easton