the raven

On my 47th birthday, I walked the four-mile loop around Mountain Lake on Orcas Island (elevation 915 ft), listening.

The most delicious parts of the day were the pauses. There were no other people. The only sounds were hushed forest, wind through cedar tops, lake water lapping, an occasional jetliner far in the distance, my heartbeat

and the raven.

The trickster had followed me here to welcome a new year in my life. His wings sliced the silence. Calling out with the low, garbled roll of the strange bird tongue in the back of his throat, it seemed as if he were advising me:

“Change is coming. Nothing is as it seems. Pay attention. Make magic.”

I tried to capture the sounds on my pocket-recorder. Every time I hit record, he grew quiet. Somehow he knew I was trying to capture his voice for later, but he wanted me to fully listen now.

Finally, at the end of my walk, I sat down on the dock to record this short voice note. As if on cue, the raven then made a brief, vocal appearance for me to keep. A gift.

I hope you enjoy the listen.

~Laura