Signs

Day 312 of 365

I have read that crows are considered symbols of death but also transformation. In some Native American cultures, crows are tricksters; in others, crows are the creators of the Earth. In Buddhism, crows are associated with protectors, especially of wisdom.

With all of this, I don’t know what to think about crows other than they are important and magnificent. And, lately, they seem to be everywhere for me.

I mentioned briefly this week that I have been having some health struggles. Unfortunately, Monday night, things got a little worse. I have been struggling with some non-stop pain, and I am a wimp. I have a very low pain threshold. I have had many doctors roll their eyes at me, but in my later life, I have learned that this is not really my fault and that I am just somehow “wired” this way. I say this to just say that I have not been in a positive head space due to my pain struggles.

The day before yesterday, I was riding in the car with Ron to deliver him to the auto repair shop. The part the rat chewed in December finally arrived this week, so we were finally able to get Ron’s pick up fixed. We were thankful.

On the way, however, I saw a crow get hit by a car. I saw the poor bird fly into the snow with one wing spread across the snow. I wasn’t sure, but I thought it was moving. I was devastated. I pretty much never see a crow get hit by a car. They seem to generally do well to avoid cars. But there it was.

I wanted to go back, but we were on a busy road with ZERO shoulder. It was just too dangerous to stop. Still, I couldn’t stop worrying about it somehow being alive and needing help. I was pretty sure it was moving still when I saw it in the snow. So, after I dropped Ron off, I went right back to the spot. Traffic was a little better, so I was able to pull into a driveway near the crow and get a better look. It had moved to a different spot, but it was dead. My heart broke for it.

But this is life, right? So I got off of the busy road and drove into town for a couple more errands. I had to deliver some sheet music I had forgotten earlier in the day to my son’s piano teacher and then get gas in the Subaru, as it was almost out. The whole way, I thought about the crow and how sad it must be for his or her mate, as crows generally mate for life.

I went to deliver the sheet music. My son’s teacher was having lessons, so she asked me to sit the music on a table on her porch. As I sat the music down on the table, right there in the chair was a little dead blue bird. My son’s piano teacher has a lot of bird feeders on her porch, so I just assumed it was a window accident. Still, seeing this within about 10 minutes of the crow incident was a lot for my already-tired soul.

I went to the car, and I cried and cried. Those poor birds.

I hate that I am this “soft.” One time, I accidentally hit a squirrel on a road near our home. I had to pull over and cry. When I told Ron about this and told him how ridiculous I felt for it, he said, “You shouldn’t be ashamed. This world would be better if more people cried for dead squirrels.”

I try to remind myself of this when I get frustrated with my “softness” for animals.

On the way home, I stopped to get gas for the car. I felt so worn. I got out and went around to pump the gas and looked down when I heard a crunch under my boot. I had stepped on the edge of something. I looked down to find a large pendant-like object made out of some kind of metal. It looked like jewelry, but it was not gold or silver, something more inexpensive.

It was a crow skull.

It stared at me, and I stared at it, as I tried to decide if picking up and bringing the crow skull into my life would somehow bring me bad luck. I am very superstitious, of course. My favorite author in college was Nathaniel Hawthorne. I loved all that symbolism.

But, after what seemed like a long internal debate, I decided to pick up the crow skull and bring it home.

I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know what to do with any of it.

photo credit: Joe McKenna