Spring is in the air and so are young, amorous ravens. It’s dating season for the birds, who choose one partner for life. Flagstaff-based biologist Liz Blaker has spent a lot of time observing ravens and their social and romantic behaviors. And she returns to the KNAU airwaves for this week's Poetry Friday segment, with her original poem, To Love Like a Raven.
Liz Blaker: Ravens tend to pair off. And they do this after extensive – what we might call dating – because they mate for life, so they’re very choosy about who they pick.
When a pair of ravens raises their offspring, the offspring leave, and around the end of the summer of early fall when they’re kind of late teenagers, they go off and hang out with other ravens around the same age in big groups. They have a big social life. They try out partners of the opposite sex for a while – just like dating – to see how compatible they are.
Eventually, after a few years usually, they will find the right partner and then they start looking for a territory. So there will be two adult ravens holding a territory. Paired off ravens will look for their own love nest. Once they’ve found a territory, then they set up housekeeping.
Ravens do things – like people do – to show affection for each other, to reinforce their bond. And, this poem is about me witnessing those kinds of behaviors. So, I wrote this poem after I came home and saw two ravens sitting on the roof of my house. They were clearly a pair. It’s called To Love Like a Raven.
On the peak of a roof,
Two ravens sit in the early morning sunshine
Speaking to each other in whispers.
They gaze at each other,
Eyes blinking slowly.
One raven, so gently,
Takes the beak of the other in his own
And holds it.
The ravens see me
And are off!
Micah-black feathers
Dazzling my eyes as they climb the sky.
Later, while lying on the living room carpet,
I look through the glass doors
And see the two ravens,
Gliding above the treetops.
One black shape rides the air
Just above the other,
As if the sky between them
Is a mirror,
Reflecting raven back upon itself.
But they are two;
One slightly smaller than the other,
The larger raven
Missing a primary feather.
They glide as if joined,
Turning, twisting, diving,
Then rising high
On a thermal together.
One raven loops away from the other,
Sliding behind a cloud,
While the other
Soars freely in the blue.
Falling, rising,
They rejoin.
Poetry Friday is produced by KNAU's Gillian Ferris. If you have an idea for a segment, drop her an email at Gillian.Ferris@nau.edu.
