A Crow Contemplation

Since I retired about five years ago, I developed a daily habit of walking several thousand steps in my Toronto neighbourhood. Years before that I was walking regularly, but those outings were different because the focus was my dog. Now the walks are just for me; I’m reaping all the benefits of fitness, joy and so much more. As a writer, this practice has helped me hugely because of the inspiration I receive when outdoors.

Sometimes I walk in residential areas and other times by the Humber River in the north of Toronto. Both have their perks. A brisk walk outside fills me with energy, inspiration, and refreshes my mindset. I love seeing the seasonal changes in my area, the flora and fauna. The advent of spring, with the first sighting of a crocus or robin, brings such delight. The appearance of vibrant red maples or the first snow, no less. For me, water is rejuvenating. Walking close to water yields a double bonus. There is unique wildlife by the river, and an opportunity to feel the momentum that water and other natural phenomena offer.

Through walking I have become somewhat of a bird nerd, often noting the seagulls, Canadian geese, northern flickers, house sparrows, finches, crows, herons and egrets in our fair city. Each is appreciated for its plumage, behaviour and spirit. None gets by me. In fact, when I walk with others, they often wonder how I spot birds so easily. My eye naturally gravitates to their movement or colour. Sometimes they visit long enough for me to take a photo, but not always.

The ancient Greeks thought that birds brought omens. Today some people believe that animal sightings convey messages or energy. The term ornithomancy encompasses that concept for birds. I’ve learned that if open to it, I might feel something distinct, especially from the collective behaviour the avian species exudes.

I recently observed a bird event during one of my neighbourhood strolls. A group of six or seven angrily squawking crows were creating a puzzling cacophonic scene just above some nearby houses, close to the tall pine trees. The disturbance was so unusual that I slowed my pace to find out more. Was there dissent within the group? It didn’t appear so, but the bruhaha continued. Since crows represent one of the more intelligent avian species, I knew this murder had purpose. In a matter of moments, the crows’ grievance was evident. A very large hawk had taken over a nearby pine tree. The large bird rested king-like in silence atop the pine. Perhaps these crows had been thrown out of the tree by the sizeable, carnivorous raptor. Beyond the expression of opposition, I intuited these crows were trying to take back the tree. They kept up their effort for a while, disbanded, and later repeated it, with no effect on the predator. The proud hawk perched unfazed on the pine, owning its win.

When bird occurrences like this happen, I try to consider a deeper meaning as I continue my hike. Reflection usually allows me to take deeper meaning from experience. There isn’t a right or wrong. Whatever comes is what is relevant. I try not to question it, instead just let it flow. Walking seems to facilitate this process.

What struck me was this: as humans or animals, we don’t always win. In this case, the wishes and strength of many didn’t outweigh the prowess of one. The concept of human empowerment came to mind, and how, in the right conditions, the confident wishes of many can in fact overthrow the intentions of one. Perception is key. In commonplace interactions, when we accept that another is dominant, they are because we allow it mentally. But when we summon our power, many different possibilities may emerge.

Further, a win-lose perspective may not be optimal in life. Sometimes a hybrid of positions or wishes is the best solution for all. Our ability to consider and evaluate these possibilities sets us apart from the rest of the animal kingdom. Unlike hawks or crows, we can negotiate, mediate, and find mutually satisfying resolutions, provided we jointly share intentions with those involved. What’s common to both is intuition. For birds we might call it instinct. Whether avian or human, it all boils down to reading energy or listening to our gut.

Once I retired from a busy fulltime job, I was able to make space for cherished activities, and simply observing what was occurring right around me. While I enjoyed my professional work immensely, this is a new level of joy. And at the root of it is nature, the most available benefit there is.

I love walks in nature for all these reasons. We can find contemplation and inspiration for our lives, should we seek those out. Staying present, observant and creative are important components of our wellbeing. And walking is a healthy, scenic backdrop to a meaningful life. What else is always accessible and free?

It’s best not to wait for retirement to cultivate such joy. Carpe diem. Immersing ourselves in nature is how we recalibrate, reset our perspective. Nature gives us ample fodder to achieve all of it. That’s why most people we encounter on walks or hikes are pleasant and smiling. Nature does that for us, just for the taking.