Bernd Heinrich is right. If you have a choice, choose the ravens over attending a meeting.
These birds have derailed my life for a week now. Life is that stuff that happens when you’re supposed to be doing something else.
Now comes the hard part. To the best of my abilities I have to starve them so that they’ll call out for their parents. And as further incentive I load the ramada with dead carcasses. A flattened rabbit from the road. A pair of rotting rattle snakes killed by Health Care. Some elk meat from my friend Kerry.
No luck. We leave to Flagstaff for the weekend, leaving the birds to their own devices with no people around. When we return they’re famished. And no signs of the parents.
Each morning they caw loudly, looking skyward. By late morning I relent and give them food. They recognize my voice now. Nice for me. Not good for the ravens.
But I love them. And I’m glad they’re in our lives. They’re perhaps the only things keeping me sane at the moment.