In mythology, the Raven is an enigma. Sometimes the Raven is seen as a messenger, a guardian. In other myths and signs, the Raven is a dark force portending bad omens, death.
A few days ago, in La Jolla, a Raven visited me. I looked out my hotel room surprised to find him on the railing outside my door. Later, I learned from my friend who has lived in San Diego for many years that they are uncommon here.
At my new hotel, I walk several blocks through an industrial area to cross over to the old part of town where the restaurants and shops are. For the last couple of days, I waited at the stoplight, looking down at the gutter and a dead Raven\’s body, her silk black feathers still shining in the sunlight. Her beautiful body almost perfect except for the exit of her spirit. For two days at least, I said my peace to her and left her body on the street near the traffic lights.
This morning, I found her again. This time I decided to honor her life and the Raven by carrying her body to a blanket of grass. Placing her body on the soft ground, I gathered sun yellow flowers decorating her rich black feathers, her body almost still perfect.
Why did I do this?
It feels kind of crazy, but not.
The Ravens have been good to me. I am not afraid of their darkness. Their messages. Their power.
Something in me wanted to honor that, so I honored the Raven who is now gone.
Later, this afternoon, I walked by the Raven feeling her message buried in flowers of sunlight.
We are dark and light. Light and dark. We can\’t live with one without the other.
There is beauty hidden in both.