Getting Stronger Every Day!

I have yet to get a good shot of the two wide open beaks in the nest.  I can see them with my binoculars, but my feeble camera lens can't quite zoom in clearly.  Their large heads wobble on skinny necks and their beaks open so wide, I fear they will turn inside out.  And such noise!  I can hear their squawks across the street.  They are getting bigger and stronger every day. 

Mama or Papa Raven (tail to the right) feeding one of two baby ravens.

This week I witnessed once again the daily struggle to survive and the precariousness of life.  I discovered one of my favorite birds, a Northern Flicker, hopping on the ground, perhaps with an injured wing, for it was unable to fly.  My husband put down food and covered it with a towel, but it hopped away and over a wall shortly after and was soon out of sight. I wondered if I should have made an effort to capture it and take it to the vet, but it was alert and clear eyed, and I hoped the injury was minor.  Perhaps it would find shelter until it was able to fly again.  But I have to admit, for a fleeting moment I thought, "Or it might end up being food for the baby ravens." 

Northern Flickers on my deck.

The next day my heart sank as I watched both ravens eat the remains of a Northern Flicker and then fly to the nest to feed their babes.   

Raven and Northern Flicker remains on the deck.

When the ravens were finished feeding and the babes were finally silent, both ravens took flight.  They began together, but soon separated, flying in different directions, soaring, twisting, dipping and rising across the lake and back.  I've written before about the pure joy of flying that is evident when you witness this sight. But to see this in the midst of childrearing made me laugh.  How many of us would have loved to take flight after finally getting the kids down for the night.  Instead we plop in front of the TV or collapse in bed.  Ravens get to leave the kids in the nest and soar! 

                                  

 

In the midst of this ecstacy-- for both them and me--both ravens began frantically croaking, and one suddenly took off after something in the distance. A hawk.  It was quite a distance away, yet they were adamant about keeping it just that...far away. 

                                 

 After following it some distance, and assured that it was not heading anywhere near their nest, the raven returned to its mate and the two sat awhile on the lower deck making soft clucking sounds.  Sometime later one returned to the nest.  

I felt that evening like I had experienced every aspect of life.  The sweet innocence of new life, the heartbreak of death, the struggle to provide, the fear of impending danger, and in the midst of it all, the unfettered joy of living.  What a gift.