Raven Funeral

Living in a pine forest in the mountains, I have witnessed many animal behaviors that I have thought to be strange and wondrous.  What the ravens shared with us that day was definitely high on that barometer.
 

It was the middle of a Spring day.  It was quiet in the neighborhood, the kids not home from school yet.  My dining room has a view of the cemetery across the street.  It’s the town cemetery that was established in the 1800s, so it’s been around longer than the houses on the road.  As I walked through the dining room to the kitchen, something caught my eye.  I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what I glimpsed outside.

A wave of glossy black, completely covering the road, was moving up the hill.  

I went outside, as quietly as I could, still not quite being able to grasp what I was seeing.  The roadway was covered in ravens, shoulder to shoulder, walking calmly and silently, together up the hill.  There were so many ravens, they filled the roadway from one side to the other.

I had to get a better look.  I quickly and as quietly as I could, went inside and then ran up the stairs to my mom’s apartment which has a deck overlooking the street and the cemetery.  I grabbed her on the way, wanting a witness and to make sure it was not a figment of my imagination.  We both stood there, our mouths agape (good…she saw them, too!)  We watched this wave of ravens marching to the top of the hill.  We tried to count them, but there were just too many.   We lost count around 40.  

As we watched, more ravens flew down, landed towards the back of the group and joined in the march upward. 

 

We must have stood there watching in silence for several minutes.  When the front of the group reached the top of the road, next to the end of the cemetery land, they spread their massive black wings and flew up towards the surrounding pine trees.  As the others reached the same spot, they too, flew up, some to join the first group in the trees, others just flew away.   Then, all of a sudden, as if by some invisible cue to the rest of the masses, they all flew away.   The sound they made as they took flight has stayed with both my mom and myself.   I believe we heard it with not only our physical ears, but with our soul ears, and felt it deep within our hearts.

After all the ravens were gone and the roadway was once again, a normal country road, my mom turned to me and said “I think we just witnessed a Raven funeral.”  That was what came to my mind, too. 

 

We’ve lived in our house for 24 winters now.  We have never seen anything like that again.   

We have never forgotten, either.

Raven in Weaverville Joss House Tree, photographer: Paula Masterman