Gifts the Raven Brings

 

 

"Don't feed the ravens!" A farmer neighbor warned. "They'll eat all your crops!"

 "It's not like I'm growing edibles" I replied. "And the crops I do grow, they don't touch".

She smiled. A rebel child, her uptight religious upbringing dangles reconciliation, evidenced by the upside down cross tattooed on her neck.  Her harsh exterior only a facade, to guard her sensitives to nature and self. 

"You know what I grow will be diluted and made potent". She has benefited from the remedies. 

"Besides, they only hang out here and next door, they leave your place alone. Don't worry".

Raven Medicine, sacred, shapeshift, powerful. 

The Sacred Bird of the North. Known as a creative force by indigenous people, the bringer of life and order. I think humanity could use a bit of that now.

I have long admired the hardiness of these birds. Found in the most extreme temperatures, Death Valley heat, to the tundra's freeze. They fly in the harshest weather that grounds the strength of eagles, hawks and condors. 

Playful, skiing on the frozen metal roof of the barn. Using tools to pry prized nuts from their shells. Stunning aerial acrobats display prowess. I love these guys!

A devoted couple adopted the barn. They dote on each other, grooming, offering bits of food to one another, meticulous nest building by both male and female, raising young. 

The watchfulness of ravens is a study in observations and life cycles. Nothing gets by them. Not predators, not the leavings of a carcass, not strangers passing through the territory. Nothing. A look out always watches over as the group feasts on compost leftovers. 

A failed sentinel will often be killed by the group, so fierce is their devotion to one another. 

Their vocalizations many, from loud and raucous to soft and murmurous. Thievery keeps the groups strong. They can be relentless in chasing down a stolen meal. 

Great Horned Owls their mortal antagonist. They will kill the ravens nest. 

Many legends abound in various cultures of the wisdom of the raven. From feeding Elijah, to bringing fire to the  icy world. Much mysticism and lore are carried on the raven's wings.

The black, blue and purple refracted in their plumage is the color of creation, the womb. That which has not formed, yet is full of potential. We so need this now. 

Birds of omen, carrying that which is necessary to create new life. Birds of life and death, messengers to the Spirit Realm. In the depths of the Winter Solstice, they instruct the stirring of magic free of fear. How appropriate as we head into Spring. 

The shapeshift creation that forms anew. Strong medicine, like that of snakes and vultures. Beings that know how to bring about reconstruction. 

Reminiscent of the homeopathic proving of Sars/Covid 19, the essence of which was from great fear comes liberation.

It is known ravens and crows leave gifts for those that bring them goodies. Below is a jar of shiny gifts they have left for me through the past few years. I need to return to my glass work!

May Raven magic find you.