Raven Young

A profusion of raven calls greeted me when I poked my head out the door last weekend. By the time I got down to the location of the fuss, all evidence of ravens had flown. However, the next day on my way to work I saw a young, bedraggled raven picking at the goose food on the side of the lane. That night he was on my neighbors covered car. By morning he made it to the garage roof, and from there to the house roof. He croaked mornfully, as if the world had abandoned him, banishing him to a wet and loney existence. I put food out for him, but got only raspy calls and suspicious looks. I last saw him in the trees next to the house. Hopefully the adult ravens I saw winging his direction were his parents, and he is now off learning how to earn a raven livelyhood.