atreesvoice

After years of having Ravens in the neighborhood, a pair built a nest just behind our house. Ravens are larger than crows and have a distinctive croak to their caw. In his book Animal Speak, Ted Andrews says, “With Raven, human and animal spirits intermingle and become as one. This is reflected in its deep, rich shiny black. In blackness, everything mingles until drawn forth, out into the light…. Raven has the knowledge of how to become other animals and how to speak their languages.” For this, I’ve loved any sighting or croak of a Raven over the years and have been thrilled to see and hear them almost constantly currently. I usually know when someone they don’t like is around, a hawk for instance. Or if one is off to get food, we all hear about it—mostly from the babies still in the nest.

After a couple months of observation, I wanted to step up my interaction with the birds. Wondering if other people had become friends with their neighborhood Ravens, I googled “befriending Ravens.” It was a surprise to find the consensus was that doing so was a very bad idea. Upon further reading, it’s the use of food that people are opposed to. There was not even mention of another scenario for befriending a wild bird. Generally, giving food to wild animals is frowned upon because once they discover humans are the source of it, they have been known to terrorize other humans in hopes of receiving more food. This in turn, can result in death for the animal when the unsuspecting person believes they are being attacked.

I spend a lot of time with my dog, Z. More than a couple hours apart is uncommon and too long. I do leave her most days to be with my horse, Tom. Some days Z comes to the barn too. The three of us don’t have lengthy conversations, we don’t have like minds, we don’t even walk on the same number of legs or perceive the world in the same way. Yet, that we are absolute friends is indisputable. I share all of my food with Z and carry tasty horse nuggets for Tom. Yet, delusional or not, the treats do not feel like the basis of our friendship. If Z and I go to a friend’s house, she will climb up on the sofa to sit next to me, no questions asked. If I leave Tom alone, he will call and fuss until I return. Neither has anything to do with food. So, when I thought of and desired to befriend the Ravens, food never crossed my mind. First of all, I wouldn’t know how to associate myself with it and I don’t have any interest in figuring that out. What, then, was I imagining befriending the birds to be like? I wasn’t expecting the Ravens to come give me a hug or sit down for a cup of tea and a long talk. Rather, I was simply interested in being acknowledged by them and to allow our spirits to intermingle as Ted Andrews suggests Ravens are capable of. More than likely they already knew of my presence. Animals, especially wild ones, are superior to humans in that regard. They have to be, so they know where to find dinner and are aware of where danger is. I often take my computer to the porch and work outside. So, every time one of the birds flew overhead, I waved and said “Hi, Raven.” Or I’d state a saying I created “IAYEIW” which is an acronym for “I appreciate your existence in the world” and pronounced “I-You.” Most of the time, I saw some kind of flight change like a slight pull down of the wings, or an acrobatic shift. Rarely, but sometimes, there would be no ‘nod’ at all. I can’t tell the birds apart, so maybe one bird ‘waves’ and not the others. I don’t know and don’t really care. I’m just happy to see them and when it happens to feel seen in return.

For all our hubris, humans underestimate interspecies relationships. We seem to believe that the only reason a different species would befriend us is for what we provide them—food for instance. Sadly, that is sometimes the case amongst our own species as well. Is it possible to simply enjoy another’s company without asking anything of them? Wanting them to be something for us or behave in a certain way? I’d like to believe my relationship to my animal companions is like that. However, I also truly enjoy what they provide me, which is a sense of unconditional love, appreciation and acceptance—actually coming from the “love” hormone, oxytocin that releases every time we are together. Would I be able to continue with my adoration if it seemed they didn’t return my affections? I hope to never know from experience the answer to that.

It seems likely that interspecies relationships (which are not always friendships) are the first step towards recognizing and knowing deeply that all life is connected. Not for our similarities but because we are alive on this humble planet together breathing the same oxygen. Literally, just as I finished typing that sentence, a butterfly landed on my heart center. I sat still happily taking in her medicine. We shared something—exactly what I won’t diminish by labeling or guessing. I simply know I am better for that moment, hopefully the butterfly is too.

In love of animals, Katrina