One day a number of years ago, my daughter and I were taking a walk down the street. About three houses from the end of the street, we noticed that some of the neighborhood kids had set up some of those miniature orange traffic cones in a circle on the side of the road.
As we approached, my daughter and I realized that the kids had encircled what appeared to be an injured crow.
Now, we have several small groups of crows in our neighborhood and I have always loved to see them. They are spiritually credited for bringing people from darkness to light, and I have observed them closely. I have noticed that the crows tend to flock to houses where someone soon dies. I see this as a method of helping the person, although I know that there are many who see things different–that the crows bring Death itself. I have never believed that.
Anyway, back to the story:
My daughter and I approached the small group of boys who were staring avidly at the crow. We looked as well.
The crow appeared fine. His wings were held appropriately, he was hopping around in a circle. There were no obvious marks on him, his feathers were smooth. He just wouldn’t take flight. This was no baby crow either, he was full grown.
I asked the boys what had happened and they said that they just found him in the road like that, and that no matter what they did, he wouldn’t fly away. They’d put the cones around him to keep him from being hit by a car.
I was fascinated. I’ve always loved crows and I bend closer to see him better. He did not show fear, but turned and looked me straight in the eye.
His eyes were a vivid blue.
Blue? I was surprised. To my knowledge, crows do not have blue eyes. Their eyes are instead a dark black/brown. I looked at my daughter and asked her if she saw his eyes. She, too, saw they were blue.
Not knowing what else to do, we wished the boys and the crow well and continued on our walk, wondering what was wrong with the crow.
The next day, tragedy struck.
A friend and her husband lived at the very end of the street. That morning, my friend awoke to find her husband…only in his late 30’s…dead of a sudden, massive, fatal heart attack during the night.
Our neighborhood mourned. It was sudden and tragic, but mercifully quick. My friend has never been the same. The funeral was heartbreaking.
Later, after the dust had settled, I was out walking again and saw the same group of boys. I stopped to ask them what had happened to the crow they’d protected. The boys told me that the next morning, they’d gone out to check him and found him dead–just before the ambulances came down the street to my friend’s house.
I was sad for the loss of the blue-eyed crow. I’d done some research and had been unable to find any information on how that crow could have gotten blue eyes. It just didn’t happen. But it struck me in that moment, that the crow was there for a reason. He had come to guide my friend’s husband on his journey, and had left in his spirit-self to complete the task, just as my friend’s husband did.
I felt blessed that I’d been given the gift of seeing the blue eyed crow, and felt better about the loss of life. He did not die alone. Neither one of them did.
From that time on, I’ve accepted crow as one of my animal guides. I feel comforted by their presence, and I welcome them near me. And I know when the time comes, I can expect my own blue-eyed crow to guide me Home.
