Huginn and Munin

And so, the raven once known as Munin, or Memory, one of the pair of legendary ravens of the  Norse god Odin, spent his last few hours on this earth in a barn in a green plastic milk crate, guarded by a yellow retriever and fed on homely hamburger, unable to remember anything except the name of his lost brother Hugin, or Thought, for whom he called all the way to the end.

Read the full story of the A Boy and A Crow by Jane Wolfinbarger

Artist: Unknown

Solomon Caw

Solomon Caw by Arthur Rackham.

This illustration is from an edition of Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. Rackham shows Solomon Caw looking at the bank note that had been turned into a boat. Bank notes have little value in Lemuria either. Frankly they are best used as boats to carry you, from Rainbow Beach, along the Kerith River to meet the Women of Mudgimba and Kerith

Raven Dancing – Celebrate The Coming of Light

Be light like a feather
Play, whirl around and just dance barefoot

The Raven, who had existed from the beginning of time, was tired of groping about and bumping into things in the dark.

Eventually the Raven came upon the home of an old man who lived alone with his daughter. Through his slyness, the Raven learned that the old man had a great treasure. This was all the light in the universe, contained in a tiny box concealed within many boxes. At once the Raven vowed to steal the light.

He thought and thought, and finally came up with a plan. He waited until the old man’s daughter came to the river to gather water. Then the Raven changed himself into a single hemlock needle and dropped himself into the river, just as the girl was dipping her water-basket into the river.

As she drank from the basket, she swallowed the needle. It slipped and slithered down into her warm belly, where the Raven transformed himself again, this time into a tiny human. After sleeping and growing there for a very long time, at last the Raven emerged into the world once more, this time as a human infant.

Even though he had a rather strange appearance, the Raven’s grandfather loved him. But the old man threatened dire punishment if he ever touched the precious treasure box. Nonetheless the Ravenchild begged and begged to be allowed to hold the light just for a moment.

In time the old man yielded, and lifted from the box a warm and glowing sphere, which he threw to his grandson.

As the light was moving toward him, the human child transformed into a gigantic black shadowy bird-form, wings spread ready for flight, and beak open in anticipation. As the beautiful ball of light reached him, the Raven captured it in his beak!

Moving his powerful wings, he burst through the smoke-hole in the roof of the house, and escaped into the darkness with his stolen treasure.

And that is how light came into the universe.

A Need for Magic

Ravens are keepers of secrets and they will escort you into the void where the mysteries are contained or they will bring you messages from the spirits of darkness with knowledge to impart.

Seven Ravens by Arthur Rackham

Since the dawn of time mankind has struggled to come to terms with the world around him. The teaching of rational thinkers such as Descartes have, unfortunately, resulted in us burying knowledge that has lain deep within our soul.

As children, our animistic minds told us that because a stone can roll down a hill, it is alive. Likewise many of us believed that because a stream gurgled over stones it breathed life. We could hear it talking as it made its way to the sea so of course it was a living thing.

Many cultures believed, believe still, that the sun, trees, winged ones, stones and water were inhabited by spirits in much the same way that people are inhabited by spirits.

Despite the advances of scientific, rational thinking, we are actually no closer to answering the eternal questions of ‘Who am I?’ ‘How ought I deal with life’s problems?’ ‘What must I become?’

We are no closer to unraveling the mysteries.

It is when we find ourselves in situations where there is no convincing explanation, that we turn back to some of the fantastical that has been presented so eloquently in Fairy stories. It is no wonder that at such times we gain some comfort and direction from tales that remind us what we know to be so.

Take the story of the Seven Ravens for example.

At a time when I am still grieving the loss of seven significant others scientifically correct answers and loss and grief theory only leave me baffled. Science does nothing to comfort me or alleviate the sense of loss. It provides no answers to the questions I have and offers no means for me to fill the void I face.

I would just as gladly turn for help from the sun, the moon or the morning star. I would happily listen to the north wind and go where she beckons.

Moments before my mother took her last breath she sat bolt upright and had a look of, what can only be described as joyous disbelief, on her face. No doubt there is a perfectly logical, scientific explanation for her final movements but I like to think that, like the maiden in the Seven Ravens, my mother heard and saw her loved ones, in shapes she had not previously associated them as having, wishing that she might finally be with them.

The call to leave her pain body and be led by the hand to a better place was too good an offer to refuse. A moment later my son and I knew that she had willingly gone home with someone very dear to her.

When the young raven came to communicate with me recently I felt that the bird had come, in just the way in which animal guides have come to guide the heroes and heroines of the fairy stories I have always loved.

Call me primitive but I am happy to retain the childlike belief that not only can animals think and feel as we do, but they can carry the spirits of those we love to be with us again. Moreover I do believe that if we are prepared to listen they can escort us into the void where the mysteries are revealed.

I am happy to believe that when my turn comes that those I have loved will come, collectively, to fetch me; that on that day I will know that one of their number had been with me, one autumn day in 2011, in the form of a beautiful black bird.

At that moment, I will know, just as my mother finally knew, that none of them had ever really gone, never actually abandoned me.

The Seven Ravens

One day, those I have loved and lost and I will fly to the same place and break bread at the same table.

There was once a man who had seven sons, and still he had no daughter, however much he wished for one. At length his wife again gave him hope of a child, and when it came into the world it was a girl. The joy was great, but the child was sickly and small, and had to be privately baptized on account of its weakness. The father sent one of the boys in haste to the spring to fetch water for the baptism. The other six went with him, and as each of them wanted to be first to fill it, the jug fell into the well. There they stood and did not know what to do, and none of them dared to go home. As they still did not return, the father grew impatient, and said, “They have certainly forgotten it for some game, the wicked boys!” He became afraid that the girl would have to die without being baptized, and in his anger cried, “I wish the boys were all turned into ravens.” Hardly was the word spoken before he heard a whirring of wings over his head in the air, looked up and saw seven coal-black ravens flying away.

The parents could not recall the curse, and however sad they were at the loss of their seven sons, they still to some extent comforted themselves with their dear little daughter, who soon grew strong and every day became more beautiful. For a long time she did not know that she had had brothers, for her parents were careful not to mention them before her, but one day she accidentally heard some people saying of herself, “that the girl was certainly beautiful, but that in reality she was to blame for the misfortune which had befallen her seven brothers.” Then she was much troubled, and went to her father and mother and asked if it was true that she had had brothers, and what had become of them? The parents now dared keep the secret no longer, but said that what had befallen her brothers was the will of Heaven, and that her birth had only been the innocent cause. But the maiden took it to heart daily, and thought she must deliver her brothers. She had no rest or peace until she set out secretly, and went forth into the wide world to trace out her brothers and set them free, let it cost what it might. She took nothing with her but a little ring belonging to her parents as a keepsake, a loaf of bread against hunger, a little pitcher of water against thirst, and a little chair as a provision against weariness.

And now she went continually onwards, far, far to the very end of the world. Then she came to the sun, but it was too hot and terrible, and devoured little children. Hastily she ran away, and ran to the moon, but it was far too cold, and also awful and malicious, and when it saw the child, it said, “I smell, I smell the flesh of men.” On this she ran swiftly away, and came to the stars, which were kind and good to her, and each of them sat on its own particular little chair. But the morning star arose, and gave her the drumstick of a chicken, and said, “If you thou hast not that drumstick thou canst not open the Glass mountain, and in the Glass mountain are thy brothers.”

The maiden took the drumstick, wrapped it carefully in a cloth, and went onwards again until she came to the Glass mountain. The door was shut, and she thought she would take out the drumstick; but when she undid the cloth, it was empty, and she had lost the good star’s present. What was she now to do? She wished to rescue her brothers, and had no key to the Glass mountain. The good sister took a knife, cut off one of her little fingers, put it in the door, and succeeded in opening it. When she had gone inside, a little dwarf came to meet her, who said, “My child, what are you looking for?” “I am looking for my brothers, the seven ravens,” she replied. The dwarf said, “The lord ravens are not at home, but if you will wait here until they come, step in.” Thereupon the little dwarf carried the ravens’ dinner in, on seven little plates, and in seven little glasses, and the little sister ate a morsel from each plate, and from each little glass she took a sip, but in the last little glass she dropped the ring which she had brought away with her.

Suddenly she heard a whirring of wings and a rushing through the air, and then the little dwarf said, “Now the lord ravens are flying home.” Then they came, and wanted to eat and drink, and looked for their little plates and glasses. Then said one after the other, “Who has eaten something from my plate? Who has drunk out of my little glass? It was a human mouth.” And when the seventh came to the bottom of the glass, the ring rolled against his mouth. Then he looked at it, and saw that it was a ring belonging to his father and mother, and said, “God grant that our sister may be here, and then we shall be free.” When the maiden, who was standing behind the door watching, heard that wish, she came forth, and on this all the ravens were restored to their human form again. And they embraced and kissed each other, and went joyfully home.

Brothers Grimm