The Raven Diaries Continue XIII

I thought that the story of the ravens was moving off stage for a while. The raven fledglings were up in the trees learning to fly. Each day I watched them leap from tree to tree gaining dexterity as they tested their wings and self-confidence. Ah to begin on the earth and to journey to the sky. But this journey is not without peril.


I woke yesterday morning to the frantic cries of the adult ravens shrieking their warning call outside my window. I got up to see what was going on. The ravens only make that call when there is an intruder.

The goats were trampling something in the pen. At first I thought it was a squirrel. Then I saw a wing. It was one of the raven fledglings. I charged down the hill in my bare feet and pajamas only to slip and cut the bottom of my foot as I ran to the goat pen. I shooed aside the goats and lifted the raven to safety. At first I thought it was dead but it raised its head in my arms as I carried it up to the house. 


Examining the bird I saw that there was some real damage beyond my ability to repair. One leg was badly fractured and one wing looked like it was also broken but not as badly as the leg. I washed the wounds and packed them with antibiotic cream and wound powder to staunch the bleeding.  I brought the raven into the house. The raven seemed to come out of shock by the afternoon and I gave him some water and fed him later in the evening. But it was not until the next day that the veterinarian, who specializes in the treatment of birds, was able see me.

The veterinarian was over in the next county and it was a long, hot drive across the mountains in my broken down car.

The veterinarian thought he either pin the leg or remove it and the wing was not as bad as it looked. It could be wrapped and held immobile until it healed. But then what would there be? A one-legged raven who could not fly as well as a normal raven.  A raven that was stranded on the earth like a chicken while it saw the other raven so close and so far out of reach. It could not survive in the wild and it was too wild to become a pet.  It would always be trying to go home and home was the long and lingering death of starvation up in the trees.

Life wants to be at all costs and circumstances. We see where life has forged its way in to the most inhospitable and precarious situations and how it has adapted into the many diverse forms in order to survive. Giving life that chance seems to be part of my role at this place.

I thought I could manage taking care of a wild bird that would always be reaching for the sky. I though I could adapt my life to the bird as I have adapted my life to everything else here by putting it under my wing. I thought about animal refuge centers who might take in a raven.  I thought of all these things on that long,hot ride over the mountains in a car heaving and screaming on three cylinders.

In the end it was the car that decided for us. I just could not afford the cost when my only transportation was hanging together with binding spells and rubber gum.

I was out of my league…

This morning I buried the raven.

Posted on June 1, 2013, in Psi Keep Center for the Arts, Ravens, Uncategorized, Unforeseen Events and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Boucher, Joan

    So well-wriiten…and a bit sad:( You are an amazing person, truly.


    Joni Boucher Program Coordinator/Instructor Paralegal Studies Program Santa Rosa Junior College 1501 Mendocino Ave. Santa Rosa, CA 95401 707/569-6144 ________________________________________


  2. My goodness what a story! You did what you could under the circumstances.


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