From a single grain they have multiplied.
When you look in the eyes of one
you have seen them all.

glossy and rowdy
and indistinguishable.
The deep muscle of the world.
~Mary Oliver

Tucked deep inside this morning’s newspaper was a column dedicated to people’s questions or observations about birds. It is a regular column that I rarely read but for some reason this morning I was drawn to it. The first question and answer was about a sighting of what someone thought was a Western bluebird that probably really was an Eastern bluebird. Since I am sure I would not recognize either one I read on.

That’s when the words that have been following me around all day jumped off the page. A gentleman had written in about an experience he had had with a crow, several crows, actually. He had been in a canoe on a lake when he noticed a single crow caught up in a tangled line. Moved by its predicament, he worked to free this black beauty of a bird,allowing it to fly off and then canoed out of the lake. While putting his canoe on the truck, the relieved crow flew and perched on the roof of his truck and stayed near it on the short drive home. When he arrived at his house, he heard the crow calling and soon a gathering a black wings perched in a nearby tree calling and looking his way.

His question: Do crows have some ability to offer gratitude? The writer of the column, the expert, wrote that this is a behavior that is not unlike those reported to him before. I recall at some point of last year reading about how crows, being quite intelligent beings, have the ability to recognize the faces of humans. They can be heard calling loudly at the sight of certain people. Interesting, isn’t it? If they can learn to know the features of a human face, why couldn’t they also call their kind together to offer gratitude for a life saved? The thought of it has given me a warm feeling on this dark and rainy day.

The idea that I cannot know the true abilities of a crow or any other of God’s creatures is at the forefront of my brain today because I have spent the last two days in what was called cross-cultural diversity training. It was an opportunity to reflect on my own culture, values, beliefs, truths, and the general way I walk in the world. In that reflection, I had the gift of hearing about the cultures of others and their walk in the world. It was a chance and a challenge to see what it means to be traveling this great and wonderful earth together and to take in the joys and what can be the sorrows of it all. It was deep and often difficult work. It was work that called each present to recognize our sensitivities and prejudices. It was also a time for learning to listen, really listen, and the importance of this often neglected sense. The fact is, it was humbling work, because it was a reminder of how often I fall into the ‘everyone sees it like me’ frame of mind. Sound familiar?

Reading the article about the gratitude of crows brought home how little I know and understand about much of this world home of mine. The work of the last few days opened me to the many ways I so often misunderstand my fellow two-legged companions and yet how much I want to share the road with grace. When expanded out even further to the four-leggeds and the winged ones and those who swim, makes for a true cross cultural experience of living. If crows can offer gratitude, how much more so should I? To the otter I watched skimming the surface of the water bringing me such awe. To the ginger cat who will greet me when I arrive home tonight. To the geese flying overhead announcing change. To the big, black dog who will wiggle and run when he sees me as if I am the greatest sight in all the world. To each blessed human being who is a gift in my life.

Perhaps I need to take a lesson from those crows and gather myself up, maybe call a few friends together, fly to a high place and sing deep gratitude into the autumn air.