Ceremony of The Raven

Friday afternoon. An intensity of energy drew me outside. I walked beyond the porch and onto the deck before I saw what invited my attention. Two elder ravens flew interference with a hawk. The hawk surveyed a large party of younger ravens soaring playfully in my lower pasture. The elders were a pair of parents I have seen around here for many years. Their activity, distracting a predator bird, is common to ravens. I’ve watched them do this much of my life, and I’ve never seen either the raven or the predator harmed. The hawk was similar in size, and appeared ready to depart, when suddenly it darted into one of the elders. My life seemed to stand still while I watched the magnificent creature begin falling from the sky. I could feel the flutters inside my chest, my heart literally skipping beats while I held my breath.
At first the old raven tried to glide downward, then its lifeless form simply dropped. I saw where its shiny black feathers lay in the cold winter grass, motionless. I wished for a miracle, like time taking a step backward. I wanted to see it jump to its feet and take to the heavens. Instead what happened next sent me toward the hillside where I dropped to the ground and sat in respectful silence. An audience of one, witness to this rare event.
The second elder flew first in small circles, then in larger circles, until it seemed to engulf the entire sky with its presence. The seven younger birds stopped their playful flight and joined the elder. This soaring continued long enough I felt dizzy from watching them, and I found myself having to breath more deeply. It was as if their airborne motion pulled the very oxygen from the air, or maybe it was their sadness.
Slowly, one by one, they began to land on the frozen earth where the dead raven rested. They hopped and walked around its small corpse. Their caws rose up in sharp piercing clips, and gradually settled into a long sorrowful noise. The hopping and walking ceased, and one by one they approached the still bird, until now they all remained quiet in an immensely peaceful circle around the object of their mourning. Obviously, emotion. Obviously, grief. Obviously, they payed their respects.
I’ve never witnessed a more serene, spiritually touching funeral.
I will never forget that afternoon.
It changed something deep inside my soul.
As suddenly as the tragedy struck, the party of ravens took to the sky all at once. They soared higher and higher, until they seemed determined to escape earth. Then, like tiny specks in the distant sky, they disappeared over the western horizon.
I was honored with a mysterious and very mystical invitation to this sacred ceremony of The Raven.