Crow Lessons

I've written before about the life lessons that birds provide us, if we can perceive them.  I got another one this morning, and I'm glad to say I was awake enough to eventually accept it as a lesson.

I have a seed feeder, hung high in one of our shore pines to prevent the bears having dinner every night on our shelled sunflower seed (and wrecking the feeder in the process).  It takes a step stool to access it, but it keeps temptation beyond paw's reach for the furry guys.  So - I thought I had it nailed.  All that yummy seed was safe for the nuthatches, chickadees, juncos and other visitors.  The spill was picked up by towhees, more juncos and sparrows.  So really, no waste.  Perfect.  Ha.

I looked out this morning and a small gang of crows was having a ball raiding the feeder.  Probably a small crew of juveniiles that spends the winter in the neighborhood.  They come each morning and eat corn with the ducks, but there are so many ducks that it's a toss up.  Plus those mallard hens can be pretty clear about whose corn it is.  I've seen more than one crow jump straight up as his tail is firmly yanked by an indignant mallard hen.

Today the crows really had their game on. One crow would hang from the platform of the feeder and beat his wings.  This made the feeder swing wildly.  Since the platform is relatively flat, seed rained down from all sides on the other crows waiting below.  It was ingenious.  Dang!  So I went out to the side of the house and yelled, swung my arms and sure enough, they all flew quickly away.  But not very far did they fly.  About fifteen minutes later I heard the leader of the pack give his call, and back they cautiously came.  So I went out again and waved my arms.  But I realized that I probably wasn't going to win this battle.  Because I had made it a battle when maybe it didn't have to be.  They were just being crows, after all.

Zen teachers are fond of saying that the teacher appears when the student is ready.  I take this to mean that we can repeat the same mistakes and heartaches in life, over and over, until one day, maybe we see things through a different lens.  Through a 'student' lens. 

If I want to sit in my lawn chair all day, jealously guarding the seed feeder, I'll keep away the crows.  But I'll also keep away all the other birds, since I'm an equal opportunity scare-crow.  I wave my arms and everyone heads for the thickets.  Or, I can think it through and maybe come up with a flexible solution.  Do the dance, so to speak.

There will always be crows in our lives.  Clever dark beings who jam up our perfect systems, hopes and dreams just when we think we have them all fool-proofed.  Native people have known and respected Crow for ages: trickster and villain - smart villain though, and one with an appreciation for a good joke.

Not to say that this is an easy thing, but seeing lessons rather than battles has to be at least a good thing. 

With the crows, I'm going to try a compromise.  I have a feeder with a screen-barrier that only lets in song-bird size birds.  Others are too big to squeeze through to access the goodies.  I'm going to hang that next to the platform feeder which will still have seed, but much less.  I still want to feed the crow gang.  I respect their smarts and I love to watch them play. 

Each day gives us chances to learn - I surely miss countless lessons, but the birds and all of nature continue to offer to teach us in gentle, humbling and often humorous ways.