Ravens

Posted on February 16, 2011 in Creatures

The best events catch me by surprise. There’s a section of the Harding Trail that tightens itself into a fold before springing back. When you come down the hill, the trail slides down into this bend, then climbs again on the switchback before rounding a corner and again starting for the base of the unnamed mountain. It was here that the birds cried out to each other and here that I heard them. A pair of fine, large ravens grasped each other by the feet and plummeted head down into the nameless gorge. Two others swooped overhead as the first pair separated before a catastrophic stop and joined them in a flight that took them to the north north-east. I hoped to see more of their mating, but they disappeared over the crest of a ridge. A lonely white-tailed kite hunted for songbirds along this promontory, but it evacuated the vicinity as the ravens whirled past it.

Then the other day — Monday — Drake and I found a solitary raven squatting at a backroads cul-de-sac we frequent. The stout bird squawked and stared across Harding Canyon. Drake was drawn to it. The raven permitted him to come within a few feet and then wheeled into the sky. The rest of our descent was accompanied by caws which registered that the bird sought a mate without success.