It’s Friday afternoon and I’ve been sitting in my backyard watching a baby crow because it’s been there all week. Now a new slightly older baby crow showed up this afternoon. It can fly. The one that’s been with me all week still can’t fly.
And I kind of can’t move from watching them. So I took a little time to try to put some of my thoughts and feelings into words from my heart to yours. And blessings for a beautiful weekend and Shabbat Shalom!
I’ve had a baby crow in my backyard all week.
At first I thought it was injured.
But after asking someone who knows about crows, I learned that it’s a fledgling.
It’s too big for the nest, not quite able to fly, and still depends on the adult crows to feed it.
It cries and cries and sometimes when they are nearby, and they come to take care of it.
No always.
It has pulled on my heart.
I’ve done a little research and occasionally put out a tiny bit of food that it might be able to eat, although it’s not very good at feeding itself yet.
Mostly I just sit outside and watch.
The other crows stay nearby, keeping an eye on it.
It wobbles around the yard.
If I get too close, it wobbles away, but it lets me come surprisingly near.
Now there’s a second fledgling in the backyard, a little older than the first.
I think we’ve become the neighborhood crow nursery.
I feel strangely honored to share this little piece of the world with them.
There is so much I don’t understand about crows, although I’ve read how remarkably intelligent they are.
But these babies aren’t smart yet.
They’re awkward and dependent, just like all babies.
And somehow, they grow.
Watching them has reminded me how much joy there is in simply sitting still.
Not trying to get work done.
Not rushing to the next thing.
Just sitting in the backyard with two young crows, the breeze, the trees, the sky, and all the quiet mysteries of nature.
One morning the baby crow cried for a long time.
I found myself crying too.
Its crying stirred something old in me.
It reminded me of that deep human longing to be seen, heard, received, and loved for who we truly are.
Perhaps we’ve all known moments like that.
Moments when we cried and wondered if anyone heard us.
The little crow, I think, is actually receiving everything it needs.
The adults are watching over it, even when I can’t see them.
Maybe that is true for us more often than we realize.
I sat there quietly today with the two baby crows, the adult crows had flown off for a while.
The three of us were simply sharing the afternoon.
The breeze.
The trees.
The sky.
The quiet presence of the One who created us all.
In that moment, it felt as though each of us knew our place.
And each of us was held.
I think that is one of the gifts of slowing down.
Nature has a way of reminding us who we are.
Beautiful.
Treasured.
Loved.
Whole.
And so may it be for you.
Listen to the baby crows in my backyard!!