BY LESLIE REGO
I love ravens. I am charmed by their scruffy appearance, especially the shaggy throat feathers that push forward, catching the breeze and the light, glistening and fluttering as the birds make their deep caws. The burly black bodies make the birds effortless to identify. Their raucous calls make them easy to pinpoint.
I heard the ravens before I saw them. Loud calls traveled back and forth from the trees along the trail. I searched until I spotted an “unkindness” of ravens perched upon the bare branches of an old gnarly aspen.
Unkindness is a fairly obsolete collective word for a group of ravens. Its origin comes from when a flock is driving off or picking on other birds. This particular day I am being “unkind” in using this terminology because the birds were sitting on the branch enjoying one another’s company. It is atypical to find many ravens socializing because generally they pair off. In fact, crows tend to flock together and ravens are more solitary. But on this day there were eight or nine enjoying the company of one another.
I watched as the birds flew in and out, joining and leaving the group. At one point a raven landed on the branch, perching alongside another raven, who immediately scootched over to be closer, gently nudging and rubbing against the bird. They were a genial bunch, calling to one another and showing off.
One by one they took off, spreading their wings, buoyant and graceful in flight, soaring and gliding, riding the thermals. The birds would circle around, land on the branch, nudge one another for a bit and then take flight again. I watched this pattern repeat itself over and over.
The ravens sat on two branches that stretched diagonally across the trunk of the aspen tree. The pitch-black bodies were backlit against the sky. There were storm clouds that slipped in and out, the inky feathers making a dark shape against the mottled greys of the clouds. I was able to study the motions of each individual bird. I watched the dipping of the heads, the fluffing of the feathers, the curvature of the beaks as they scrutinized their surroundings. I began to internalize the raven-like dance of the birds. The poses of the ravens became a natural extension of my paintbrush as it hit the paper.
Leslie Rego is an Idaho Press Club award-winning columnist, artist and Blaine County resident. To view more of Rego’s art, visit leslierego.com.
