Thursday, December 15, 2011

North to Alaska - Ray the Raven


One day after pondering one of my more harrowing experiences slamming against a modest blizzard amongst the mysterious trails that always lead back to our cabin, I was especially weak and weary when a tap tap tapping came to our cabin door.  I was in no way expecting or even wanted visitors but the code of the north mandated I answer it.  I yelled for Bev to put on some water for tea and start worming up some biscuits. 

The person I encountered was a funny and odd looking little man.  He was dressed in the usual winter gear for travelers up here except for the fact he dawned a top hat.  This was odd enough but what was even odder was that he had a raven perched on his shoulder.

If you have never seen a raven in real life you cannot appreciate their size.  They are big.  It was a ridiculous site – a small man dressed in an overly large parka, a top hat adorning his head, a muffler around his ears, and a giant bird perched on his shoulder whose head stood higher than the top of his stove pipe.

While taking off his parka the bird jumped on top of his hat to make it easier for him and when he hung the coat on the door peg, our fine feathered friend resumed his previously held position.

He thanked Bev for the tea munched on a hot fresh biscuit and proceeded to introduce himself as a wondering poet by the name of Raven Ray.  “Oh,” I said “that explains why you have a raven on your shoulder.  Sort of you calling card.”  He looked at me puzzled like and said, “What Raven?”  I could tell right away that not only was he a wandering poet but a stand up comedian as well, although he was sitting down.  I said no more and decided to play along. 

“What are you doing up here?” I asked. 

“Wondering, that is what wondering poets do.”

I couldn’t help myself so I said in my best teacher voice, “You mean wandering don’t you?” 

“No,” he just as soothingly replied.  “If I was wandering I would not know where I was going and I would perhaps just be aimlessly going about.  I am a wondering poet.  I wonder about things.  Like I am wondering why you are here, I wonder who you are, I wonder who your wife is and how you came by the moose head hanging over the stone fire place there, you don’t look like a hunter.”

“Well I also wonder about a thing or two.  Not the least of which why you have that raven sitting on you shoulder and why he seems so tame and ambivalent to the rest of us.” I said.

“You know dear friend, that is the second time you have made the unsubstantiated charge that I have a raven on my shoulder.  I will let it pass again.  I am here to see if you have any information that I might use for one of my wondering poems, while as you say, I am wandering around.”

This conversation was retreating and degenerating in a circular fashion fast, but I was not about to let up regardless of the code of the north on how you treat guest.  “Ok, I will make you a deal, I will answer all you wonderings if you just tell me about that raven on your shoulder.”

“If you mention raven to me one more time I will exit this abode and shall nevermore return to your chamber.  You say there is a raven on my shoulder, why would a raven be on my shoulder.  If there was a raven on my shoulder don’t you think I would know it.  Why only a drunk or a madman addicted to laudanum would not know such a thing.”

I could not help myself.  My grade school behavior returned, “Raven.”

“You must have a desire for a raven yourself.  You are seeing things. Good day sir!”   He hurriedly put on his parka as the raven jumped on his top hat to ease the process but it did not return to his shoulder but flapped over to the table and started munching on Bev’s biscuits.  “Just remember” he said raising his voice in defiance and shaking his fist.  “Nevermore will you see me, you can quote me on that.”

I have named the raven Ray.
 

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