Raving for Ravens

They are well known to the Viking friends, the ravens of the god Odin, Hugin and Munin. But the Celts also had their divine ravens. The goddess Morrigan, goddess of war and death, was accompanied by them. She showed herself to the people either as a cruel, old hag or as a beautiful young woman, just as "two-faced" as her companions, and could also transform herself into a raven. Sometimes she condemned a warrior to death, sometimes she saved him from it.

Actually, ravens are sparrows ... well, from the same species. The largest sparrow species. And sometimes, if you watch them fooling around, they really have something of a cheeky sparrow about them.

Ravens are territorial and monogamous. Except, the partner dies, then they pair up with another partner rather quickly.
They are beautiful, in their black plumage, which often shines bluish in the sunlight. Smart they are, as smart as a chimpanzee or a six-year-old child. Like their cousins, the crows, they are inventive and use tools. I myself have watched crows put nuts in the streetcar tracks and then wait for the next streetcar to crush them. They can also draw logical conclusions, a trait that has long been attributed only to humans (or, more accurately, that humans have attributed only to themselves ...).

As a companion for my main character, the raven Branna is ideal. Because ravens can talk. Just as dogs can learn to understand a bunch of words, ravens can develop a large vocabulary. With the difference that they can also say these words. And a variety of sounds, because they love to imitate all kinds of sounds extremely accurately - from the telephone ringing to the lawn mower. And because they're so smart, they understand what they're saying, too. At the Riegersburg Bird of Prey Sanctuary, where there are also two ravens, the falconers tell us that when asked, "What's the weather like?" a raven will never say it's raining when in fact it's sunny.
Unless, perhaps, he allows himself a joke. Because ravens have a sense of humor, I think. But maybe I'm attributing all too human qualities to them. But even with our pigs, who are also known for their intelligence, I've noticed that sometimes they really trick you, with an amused glint in their eyes.

I also like the playfulness of the ravens immensely. When you see them frolicking in the air, swooping down for the sheer joy of movement, or when you see them rolling in the snow and rolling down a slope, they exude a zest for life that has nothing whatsoever to do with the "evil" characteristics attributed to them.

And where does their bad reputation come from? Raven parents, death bird, unlucky raven, gallows bird, witch bird ...

Witches are still often depicted with the black birds (up to Magica de Spell in Donald Duck). As a "lonely witch in the woods" it is quite understandable that one surrounds oneself with an intelligent creature to have someone to talk to ... But for the church, of course, this was one of the reasons to portray the bird as evil together with its owner. Its deep, croaking voice can also have something sinister, at night in the cemetery ...

Ravens, contrary to the myth, take very good care of their offspring, but because in the beginning, when it leaves the nest, it still seems very clumsy, the impression may have been created that the parents threw the chicks out too early.

And battlefields are loved by ravens, because they are scavengers. Since they are very social animals, they also immediately call all their friends over to share the feast. They also prefer to go for the eyes first, and may well wait for other scavengers to do the heavy lifting of breaking open the body for them. Especially with wolves they develop real friendships and prey communities. Like Branna and Arduinna's wolf-dog Cú.