A Murder of Crows in the Druid's Tree: A Meditation on Nature

The neighbors behind us have a huge oak tree in their yard, a majestic and muscular tree who watches over their yard and ours. This morning a cacophony of corvine caws called me out to the yard: a murder of crows laughing and cursing and who-knows-what-else in the canopy of the great oak. My daughter and I had to shout to hear each other over the ruckus. I couldn't figure out what the crows were up to, but more of their feathered friends came to join them. Over our house swooped more curious crows and a pair of critical blue jays.

I just finished reading Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke, in which ravens figure somewhat prominently. It is a book of Enlgish magic taking place in the early 1800's. If such a topic interests you at all, I suggest that the 1000+ pages are very much worth the read. Anyway - it left me feeling mysterious and magically inclined. The crow caucus in my back yard - in the branches of the sacred-to-druids oak - felt like it might possibly be some sort of omen.

So while I raked the Box Elder leaves in our back yard (the oak leaves haven't yet fallen), I meditated on the possible lessons of this murder of crows. Now, first off, I think the crows were up to their own business. They weren't there for me. Same goes for the tree. However, I believe we can be open to lessons in anything that catches our attention. My attention, my interest is what makes this event a spiritual message.

Crows in the top of an oak tree: Life and death, earth and sky, and a lot of celebrating going on. This seems to me a celebration of the season. This Samhain I honor the passage of two more people: my father and a little boy I barely knew. One lived a long and hard life (my father), the other a short life that ended tragically. They are both on their paths, passed from this life to the spirit realm. The crows tell me to celebrate the lives of these two people, and all the others I have lost. The crows remind me that life is by its very nature transitional. We are at once rooted in the soil and ready to take flight. And that is the party called life.

What sacred messages has nature offered you recently?

I wish you and yours a sacred and peaceful Samhain.

Settling in Towards Samhain

Today my three-year-old daughter and I went to another pumpkin festival. At my favorite nursery, they not only carried a huge variety of pumpkins and gourds, Indian corn, and local fruits and veggies, they had a bouncy castle and a straw bale maze! My daughter is just getting into the fall/Halloween thing. Next I get to teach her about Samhain, the celebration of the healing darkness and the honoring of our ancestors. Since my dad recently crossed over, this will be a particularly poignant Samhain for me.

I'm finding it fascinating to see how my daughter has no fear of death. When we find a dead animal or bug, she is more curious than sad or afraid. It was the same explaining when my dad died: his body got sick and it was time for his spirit to move on. She accepted this without asking the otherwise ubiquitous Why? Death is as natural to her as babies being born out of a mommy's yoni, Mommy's moonblood, and other cultural unmentionables.

I love fall, and I love teaching my curious and smart daughter about autumn and her rituals. We've talked about why leaves change color and fall off (the green fades as it gets cold, the other colors shine through, and then the tree needs to be bare leaves to get ready for snow). We've carved one pumpkin, which invited a squirrel into the dining room to chew off its face, and then it turned moldy on the inside. We both loved the preschool science experiment of a moldy pumpkin and squirrels preparing for winter, just like the trees.

What we are celebrating and what my daughter is learning is that life ebbs and flows. The garden goes to sleep in fall, as do trees, bears, and frogs. Then we come inside and eat squash, pumpkin, and apple cider. Ghosts are fun, witches powerful, and the beautiful mother moon shines on us as we move into the dark of the year.

May you and yours be blessed this autumn by the bounty of the earth and the balm of cool weather.

And may my friends Down Under be filling with the blooming of Beltane!

Blessed be.