What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stranger

The Raven August 2, 2017

Filed under: Tales of Travel — meganorussell @ 6:32 pm
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So I had a deep and meaningful experience with a yogurt-eating raven.

thumbnail_IMG_1006When Chris and I were in Ireland, we spent an amazing day in Killarney National Park. Toward the end of the day, the husband left me in this tiny brick courtyard for a few minutes. It was really quite lovely. I had a nice bench in the shade to sit on. Ivy climbed the sides of brick walls. Other than a smattering of tourist trash, the scene was idyllic.

A then this raven swooped down and landed on a bench about five feet from mine where someone had left their yogurt trash. It was one of the kinds where there’s like a pocket of fruit and then a pocket of yogurt. Whoever had left it had shoved their spoon and napkin inside before half-heartedly flipping the foil top back over. (Take a moment, digest that people are so awful as to leave that sitting out, and we’ll move on with my awesome story.)

The raven hopped toward the yogurt container and pulled back the thin foil lid. The foil flipped back on the raven’s head. The raven moved it again. It flipped back. Finally, he got the lid pulled back enough it would stay open. Then he picked up the spoon, tossed it on the ground. Picked up the napkin, tossed it on the ground. He leaned down to eat the yogurt remains, and his creepy raven senses told him I was staring. He looked up at me, then twisted the yogurt cup so he could eat with his butt toward me.

I watched the raven’s butt for a bit until he was done with the yogurt. He hopped down from the bench onto the bricked ground and looked at me all smug… with white yogurt covering his beak.

And he knew, that bird knew I was internally giggling at his dairy nose. He bent down and tried to wipe his beak on the brick ground. Note: brick doesn’t wipe yogurt very well. The raven looked up at me like he’d done a great job, realized it hadn’t worked, hopped to a brick a few feet away, and tried it again.

No luck.

He looked up at me like, “Hey, human, help a raven out.”

I looked back like, “I love you, but you’re a wild animal and I like having fingers.”

The raven gave up on my helping him and hopped a few feet, wiped his beak, glared back at me. Hopped a few feet, wiped his beak, glared back at me.

He made his way around the inside of the courtyard. The he hopped up onto a bench on the far side, and climbed the ivy to the top of the wall. He looked at me, buried his face in the ivy and shook his head around. He stood up, his beak perfectly clean, and I swear that bird smised at me before flying away right before my husband came back.

He was so intelligent. So directed in looking at me. That bird was my judgmental friend, and I loved him.



One Response to “The Raven”

  1. […] I bonded with birds and stumbled upon a tomb, it was time to get ready to board the boat for […]

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