Crows Tale

Crows tale

As I was walking down the street on my way to the bus stop, I saw an old friend. He was sitting on top of a chimney, watching my every move. His eyes followed me as if they were magnets exerting a pull on me. He lifted his head and let out a very loud crowing. “Good morning to you too”, I thought. With those thoughts still in my mind he spread his wings and flew away making sure that he went right past my head. I almost felt his wings touch the top of my head.

The crow to me is the messenger of spirit. The blackness of the feathers symbolise the unknown environment spirit lives in. It’s the void that leads to the unknown so it can be made known. The dark eyes represent all that is still to be seen. They carry our messages to the spirits.
In Devon, not far away from Dartmoor, is a village. It’s called Manaton, and it was there that I made friends with the crows. I had just finished a series of shamanic workshops and was on my way to Devon to spend time in an environment that would allow me to integrate everything I had learnt. I also was going to do a Sweat Lodge ritual and I wanted to prepare myself shamanically.
As the coach I travelled on from London entered Newton Abbott I felt that I had to look to the right. I turned my head and to my surprise there were 3 crows flying alongside the bus at the same level as I was sitting. The one flying in the middle kept looking at me as if to say that the link with spirit was strong and that they would ensure that all my questions would be taken to spirit. They then sped up their flight and turned away towards the place I was heading for.

One morning I got up at 4 am to go to the top of a hill and my intent was to state my reasons for being there. I took my drum and sat down on a fantastic rock formation on the edge of the hill. The sky was still dark, but the sun was beginning to show itself. I closed my eyes and started drumming. I was taken from that place and saw myself facing the most amazing sunrise. I had almost become like the sunrise. Some of the darkness that surrounded me in those days disappeared because of the strength of the rays of the sun. I knew then that those few days in nature were a rebirth of some sort.
I later found out that the rock formation was called “Crows Rock” by the locals. When I looked at it from a distance it looked like a crow with its wings spread out. Since that day the crows and me are good friends and we have an inner understanding.

“Good morning to you too!”, I thought as I got onto the bus taking me to work.

Blessed Be