Ravens

From the top of a tree, we clung to the remaining trunk which we could wrap our hands around.

Standing on branches below us which strained under our weight, we looked out over the forest treetops. We were at the same height as the giants. We were one of them.

A gust of wind blew across the treetops causing leaves to turn and flutter and cedar tops to bend slightly and sway. We felt the wind in our hair as the tree we clung to swayed back and forth. It felt wonderful. We were seeing what an eagle, or a hawk sees as it glides over the treetops.

Half of the life in the forest is at the top of the canopy and yet, when we walk a trail through the woods, we hardly look up. Our attention is focused on the 8 feet of path in front of us.

Why do boys climb trees? What draws us from the darkness of the forest floor to the tops of the canopy?  After all, we were not born from the cat or monkey families. Humans belong on the ground.

My best friend, Chuck, and I had climbed this tree because we had heard the call of the wild, or the caw of the wild . . . it was a raven.

We were in middle school on a Boy Scout campout, deep in the Mount Baker National Forest. The sunlight was struggling to reach the ground through the heavy canopy above us. We had been walking on a trail through the woods when we heard the large black bird fly overhead. It circled and landed in the tall cedar. It appeared to have a large nest secured in the long branches.

“You know what ravens and crows do?” I asked Chuck. He shook his head. “They are thieves. If you leave anything shiny outside, they will swoop down and carry it off.”

“Like what?” Chuck asked.

“Well, they have been known to carry off watches, rings, and necklaces, as well as coins.” (I said with all the confidence of a middle schooler who knew nothing he was talking about.)

“So, what you are suggesting is, that nest could be a veritable treasure chest. We could be the kings of bling.” I could see that he took the bait.

“The possibilities are endless,” I goaded him.  “Let’s go find out.”

The cedar had solid limbs which made climbing up the trunk no more difficult than climbing a ladder. Chuck, being just as eager as I to find out what was in the nest was racing me to the top. We would occasionally stop for a breather and look around the forest at the new perspective, seeing the trees around us from the eyes of a bird.

It was during one of our rest stops that Chuck announced, “I’ve got to pee.”

“Well, now that you mention it, I do too.” So, from our respective sides of the tree, we sent cascading waterfalls down to the earth below, splashing off branches all the way to the ground.

I believe that it occurred to both of us at the same time; we have to climb back down the tree through those branches.

“Hmm,” I thought. “Not the brightest thing we’ve done.”

Looking up, the large nest made of twigs, moss, and straw was a mere 20 feet away. The trunk was getting smaller in diameter and the limbs narrower. The raven had flown off and the nest was free for us to scoop up our treasure.

Now we quickened our pace ascending the tree. It looked like one squirrel chasing after another. Who would peer into the nest first? The branches shook, the narrow trunk swayed and at the same moment, our heads breached the level of the nest.

I don’t know who was the most startled, Chuck and I or the second adult raven in the nest.

The raven hopped backward onto the edge of the nest away from us revealing three young babies huddled together.

How big is a raven up close? 27 inches from head to tail with a long, sharp beak, long sharp talons, and a four-foot wingspan.

What does a startled raven sound like up close? Like it is waking up every living beast in the forest and at the same time calling for its mate who may be miles away.

Can a raven protect its young? You betcha!

The bird took to the air and flew in a circle over our heads, talons extended.

Finally overcoming the paralysis from fright I yelled at Chuck, “Grab the loot and let’s go!”

“There’s nothing in the nest but baby birds,” he shouted back.

It was at this moment that the adult raven made its first attack run. Was this bird a male or female? I do not know. I didn’t think to look or ask. It came down hard on my head digging its talons into my scalp and pecking its beak into my skull. With one hand firmly gripping the trunk I used the other to swat off the attacker.

Then, from out of nowhere, raven number two showed up and attached itself to Chuck’s head. We both looked like we were wearing Indian headdresses.

“Fall back, fall back!” I screamed. The raven continued to peck the top of my head. Chuck was fairing no better. Blood dripped down both our foreheads.

We began a rapid descent through the branches of the cedar. Though the ravens had taken to the air, they were not done with us yet. They flew into the lower branches attacking us with their talons. If you thought one angry raven was loud, you should have heard two. The neighbors got involved too. They came from all around, descending on us as we were trying to make it to the ground. Finally, hanging from the lowest branches, we dropped into the tall sword ferns on the ground. The ravens, satisfied that they had won the battle, returned to their nest.

We looked at each other’s injuries. Hair was missing, blood was dripping.

I looked at my hands, my jeans, and my shirt.

“I smell like pee,” I said.

“I didn’t think this was morning dew on the ferns.” Chuck noted.

The walk back to the camp took us past a creek which we used to wash the pee off our hands and the blood off our foreheads. We also walked past a rocky outcropping. Stopping to look at it, I noticed what appeared to be a ledge and a cave. It would require a bit of climbing to get to it.

“Look at that cave. You know, Chuck, the thing about caves is that they are perfect places to hide loot. You know, where robbers hide the cash until the cops stop looking for them. That cave could be full of cash!”

I could see that he took the bait.

“Cool!” he said. “Let’s go!”

*Title photo credit: Ed Oakes

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