Companion Crows
“Flock” Acrylic on canvas by Barbara Fisher
I am beset by crows.
My mother began feeding a pair of crows when I was fifteen years old, and since then, I have noticed that they have become a part of my life. On a visit to my grandfather when I was around fifteen, he remarked to me that he had been seeing three crows wherever he went, and wondered what that could mean. Right after he said that, we stopped the car for a moment to run an errand, and sure enough, three crows popped out of the sky and landed near the car.
Even when I was a kid, I’d always noticed them, thought them beautiful and was sad that others did not. This fondness I had was increased dramatically when I was told the story of Rainbow Crow, and how he brought us fire in the Old Days. I also learned that because Crow could speak the languages of men and other animals he was considered one of the wisest of the Animal People. Crow is also a Trickster figure, for he is full of light hearted mischief and a thief. For this reason, my childhood mind said to me “Crow deserves respect., and I should give it to him.”
My grandfather taught me the Cherokee word for crow -Koga- and it is one of the few words I know in that language. I began greeting every crow I saw with “Aho, Koga!” which means “Greetings/acknowledgement crow!” from then on. Granted, it was a bit of a muddle of a greeting, because Aho is not specifically a Cherokee word, but I hoped the crows got the message- “I respect and love you!”
My mother continued to feed the crows, and over time the flock grew as hatchlings matured and took wives and husbands. Crows mate for life, and care attentively for their young-they are very tender with each other, and form strong bonds within a flock. We delighted in their shenanigans, and they began to knock on my mother's window and beg if she hadn’t put out food yet.
I started to pick out some of their calls- simple things like “ALARM ALARM HAWK HAWK!” which is LOUD, fast, overlapping, and constant cawing of all members of the flock, after one spots the hawk. Or “Food!/Assemble the flock!” which was 3 loud, long caws, then 3 more, followed by the flock calling back and showing up to eat. When eating they would click and throatily mutter happily. Or “FUCK YOU GET AWAY FROM THAT HATCHLING!”- which was a quieter version of “HAWK HAWK ALARM ALARM” that would get louder and faster the closer you got to a nest or hatchling.
That was a call you ignored at your peril, because you’d get dive-bombed if you got too close. I also got to watch them mob hawks-who shared the ridge near my mother's house and engaged in a territory war that spanned years. Watching a mobbing was fascinating-the alarm would sound, and the whole flock would take to the air, cawing loudly, quickly, and overlapping their calls as they went to battle. This call was like an alarm call at first, but quickly became more insistent and less like a “watch out! Danger!” For the life of me it comes across as “To arms, to arms!” Once that call started ,all the crows in the vicinity were on this hawk, swooping and diving, driving it out of the area.
As I watched and lived next to the flock I also heard a call that was associated with seeing me or my mother -a ca-caw, ca-caw sound that sounded eerily like Ko-ga, ko-ga which is what I said to them. If you answered back the flock would all call out with their personal “call sign” that they used to communicate their presence, and they would wait for you to respond. It was like they were checking that you were there.
When I moved out at eighteen, I noticed something. Three crows began showing up on campus, or around town when I was out and about. They would use the same “check in” call, and I would call back. This got me some funny looks, but well, it was only polite to say hello back! As I moved from house to house, the same thing would happen-three crows would show up. This came to the attention of my coworkers and friends at this point, as they would appear on my breaks and by the house in the morning, and I would always greet the crows when they greeted me. I wasn’t sure if they just wanted food, or if I had become a friend. I kept feeding them if I could at each of my houses, so it could have been either.
Once I went to visit my grandparents in Florida with my best friend, and we were telling them about the crows. (These were non-Native American grandparents.) My grandparents believed us, but said it was probably nothing too intense. We got out of the car, and immediately a crow bounced out of the sky, landed right in front of us and went “ca-Caw! Ca-caw!” and flipped its tail happily. It proceeded to follow us throughout the park, cheerfully calling, and when we lost a ticket we needed, it dropped it right in front of us, again calling the same call I heard whenever a crow spotted me. My grandmother was astonished and delighted by this!
Around that time I began to find crow feathers constantly. They showed up when camping, on walks in the woods, on sidewalks, in the yard, you name it. A few houses later and I’m living where I live now. I still feed the crows, I still talk to them, and I am still followed by three crows. They shifted the caw for ‘Morganna’ to three rapid fire caws a few years ago, but still wait for me to call “Ko-ga” back just as they always did. I’m not sure why that has changed. I figured that this is just my life now-I find crow feathers everywhere, I am followed by crows wherever I go, and that’s just how it is.
Then this spring happened. I have a small deck in the back of my house that for two years has played host to a garden. This year the garden is bigger than usual, and I noticed some potato bugs nibbling on my plants. I proceeded to spread a little extra seed and corn along the deck rail to attract a few birds towards the plants to eat the bugs. I have three crows living in the trees near my house, and they come to eat off and on.
One day, I went out and startled a young crow-just fledged-hanging out on the deck. I froze, and it didn’t fly away. I looked up and see the crows parents-two of the three that live near me. At this point I expected to hear “Get away from the baby!” alarm calls. Instead I got the three caw greeting I always do. I called back, and they stayed in the tree. The young one hopped onto the rail and fluttered off.
This happened repeatedly every day, until I ended up sitting two feet from the chick several times a day, smoking a cigarette and just watching. The parents and flock never objected. They seem quite content to watch the chick get used to its wings and forage for bugs and seed under my gaze. The deck is a perfect nursery for it; it’s up off the ground so the loose cats in the neighborhood can’t get it, there are bugs and other snacks, and shade from the plants. I put out water for it too. I felt almost like a babysitter. Now that Crow Baby is comfortable on the wing, there are four crows that say hello to me every day. I wonder if next year I will end up providing a nursery again?
This is the sort of thing that happens to me. It may not seem supernatural, but I tell this story because to me it is a little magical. I have somehow made friends with the crows, starting with respectful greetings as a child, evolving to feeding them, and culminating in being considered safe enough to be near their child-something that is NOT usual animal behavior. These crows are not tame animals. They do not come when called, do not sit on your shoulder, and do not need the food I give them.
They are wild creatures that happen to have some interesting symbolism attached to them. They are wise, they are cunning, they are tricksters. I happen to also have a connection with a trickster god, and I find that interesting. I also wonder if it is a form of synchronicity that I find their feathers constantly-or if they leave them for me to find. I wonder about my grandfather seeing them. I used to wonder why it was always three crows, until now.
I do wonder if it means anything, but I don’t need it to have a deep meaning.
I’m just happy to see them-I consider them friends. I hope they consider me a friend too. I’m honored that they’ve been my companions for so long-though I do wonder if it’s the other way around, and I am their companion instead.
