Our Emerald Isle - Ray is back

Our Emerald Isle – Ray the Raven

 

I have always wondered about homing or migratory instincts.  None of our leading scientists that study such things have ever come up with an answer that will pass the rigor of scientific analysis.  They seem to content themselves with the description of what and where animals go but never the how they manage to pull off.   

 

From time to time I think that perhaps they are making more out of it than they should.  I mean take geese for instance.  They leave their happy homes in the far north at a time when they think their water habitat will freeze over and always go to the same place where the water does not freeze, or if it does, not all of it, and if they are real lucky they get fed by a populace that think having geese shit on their lawns and lake bank is adorable.  Biologist have wondered for years how they get back to the same location year after year, but to me it doesn’t seem that complex.  It’s like they would just recognize the geography of the earth after a few years of following the leader and memorize the path so when it was their time to be leader they would not get lost..  The same could be said about whales traveling from Alaska to Hawaii;  they just follow the floor of the ocean.  Well I guess it could be that if whales can see that far through the ocean blue. 

 

However none of this explains how a bird can fly to Hawaii from Alaska with nothing but ocean below their flight path, or how a dog left by its owners in Omaha can find their old masters in Tucson, or even still how Ray the Raven ended up perched on one of the exposed beams of Dever’s.

 

Now you might remember Ray the Raven.  If not let me jog your memory.  When Bev and I lived in our log cabin in what really was the enchanted forest of the Alaskan wilderness, a stranger stopped by one evening.  He, as all strangers stopping by, was invited into the house for a warming fire and some tea and biscuits.  He had as a traveling companion a Raven that was  perched on his shoulder as he talked to us, the man not the raven.  The man was a little strange and rambling but every time I asked him about the raven sitting on his shoulder he would ignore me.  I would not let the matter drop and eventually the man became very un cordial.  He stormed out of the house in a huff because I would not let the matter drop vowing he would return “Never more.”  The Raven stayed however.  I guess it was because he was tired of the man’s ravings and being ignored or perhaps it was Bev’s homemade biscuits.  Regardless the Raven and I became very close and he would accompany me on most of my trips to see students scattered around the area.  I called him Ray. 

 

The day Bev and I left for Ireland I told Ray he would have to move on and join his own kind.  Raven’s don’t cry of course and I was not sure what Ray really thought about departing, but he took what I thought was a deep breath, turned his head stoically towards the east, flapped his wings for a take off and ventured forth to find his way in the world while we left for Ireland and our next great adventure.

 

I was woken last Saturday morning by the crashing and banging of pots and pans coming from the Dever kitchen just below our bedroom.  By the time I ran out the door to the landing overlooking the bar and dinning area I saw Abdul running around the area with a fishing net raised over his head.  He tripped over tables and chairs and shouted out words which I assumed were in Arabic for I did not understand any of what he was saying.  He noticed me behind the upstairs railing and pointed to a beam just above my head and to the right.  He managed to breath out the word, “Tanksgiving.”

 

I looked in the direction he was pointing and realized the object of his chase was a huge black bird.  To my astonishment I realized it was Ray the Raven, my friend and companion I had left behind or at least set free to make his way in the world when I left Alaska.  Ray did make his way in the world and made it over here.

 

Ray jumped off his perch and on to my shoulder.  We did not kiss or hug or anything like that, but he nuzzled his beak in my hair and moved it around it what can only be described as affection.

 

Bev came out of the bedroom and Ray immediately recognized her as she did him and he jumped on her shoulder and started nuzzling her head also.  Bev is a soft touch and immediately did what she had to do and left us to accomplish her task.

 

Abdul was a little taken aback about all this.  I quieted him down and the three of us, Abdul, Ray, and I sat down at one of the tables where I told Abdul about Ray and how we became friends.  Abdul said that he had never seen a raven nor a turkey but had heard us talk about them but couldn’t remember which one was eaten during the American Thanksgiving.  He knew we had talked about importing a “bird” to celebrate Ireland’s Thanksgiving next week and thought it had arrived yesterday on his day off and escaped from its cage..  He was just trying to catch it with the fishing net.

 

“Well.” I said, “Alls well that ends well it is said.”  At about this time Bev came from the kitchen carrying some tea and a plate heaped with biscuits.