Skip to main content

Weird...

I just got back from a jog around the neighborhood. I ran out to College Ave. and just after I'd turned around and was heading home a crow flew in front of me, cawing lustily, and up onto the telephone wires. I kept running, and after I'd gone just a few steps, the crow flew down from its perch, still cawing, to a tree branch ahead of me. We leapfrogged like this for a block. I turned a corner into a pedestrian walkway between blocks, and stopped when the crow followed me, still cawing down at me from a pine tree.

I looked up at the crow, trying to understand what was going on in its head, but it just kept cawing, glancing down at me occasionally, and flying from branch to branch every so often. Another crow flew up, silent as the first was loud, and took in the scene. When that one flew off after a minute, I decided to keep running.

The first crow followed me through the walkway, across and down the street, and around the corner, still cawing. When I got to the Highway 24 overpass, the crow stopped atop a lightpole, silent for the first time in ten minutes. I kept running, thinking of the old superstition that ill-intentioned spirits would be unable to follow over running water. I don't know what the crow's intentions were, but it sure did raise the hairs on the back of my neck.

Comments

Elizabeth M. said…
Wow, crazy.

Leon has a book, Animal Spirits, or something like that, which you might want to look at. It lists all kinds of animals and meanings behind their visits. I don't know the specific Native American tradition the book comes from, unfortunately. But it might be helpful in interpreting what this crow (or raven?) might've been trying to tell you.
jkh2os said…
oh, that crow just wanted to sex...you...up!

Popular posts from this blog

Friday Night

I feel drained after this week.So I'm lifting weights by myself in the exercise room of the ArbCo Common House, doing KenKen puzzles in between sets, and feeling really glad I shelled out $30 on a cheapo Bluetooth speaker. It's astonishing that something that fits inside my water glass is capable of being too loud. Aesop Rock, Haim, Mike Doughty, Paper Tiger, and Lorde: this next set's for you. To come: some recent pictures I've made that I like.

Family and Gender in Ancient Rome

I mentioned below that Prof. Diane Lipsett delivered a wonderful lecture on the conversation currently taking place between New Testament scholars, family historians, social archaeologists and the like. The title of this post is actually the title of en entire semester-long course taught by Prof. Lipsett, so for our, geez, ninety minute session she condensed her focus to Men, Women, and Children in Ancient Rome. With her permission, I am posting my notes from this lecture below, tweaked a little for readability.

Prof. Lipsett is interested in studies of gender formation among non-elites as well as elites, those people about whom we know much less because they did not have the resources or clout to commemorate and study themselves, generally speaking.

Roman households were much broader than we conceive of in modern terms, with a wide spectrum of people connected by family and employment living under one roof (the terms domus/eikos/ikea capture this idea of an indiscriminate household…

I thought California would be different...

True, I didn't think California would be like this, but I don't know how it could be different, either. Sitting on the deck tonight, hearing the resonant tones of the metal wind chimes, and the sorrowful plunks of the bamboo ones, and smelling the jasmine on the breeze; hearing the constant low roar of the highway (even at three in the morning), but also the distant lament of the train horn; and seeing a few stars through the orange-purple night sky...I thought California would be different, but I didn't expect it to be this much the same.


{EdNote: This image is of a print by Raymond Pettibon, one that I had the privelege to live with for a semester of college thanks to Oberlin's Art Rental program and my excellent housemate Josh Adler. I think about it every time the thought "Wow, California isn't how I thought it would be," crosses my mind. Kind of grim, no?}