A Murder of Crows Set Upon Me and other Pokémon Stories
You first hear the sound, the cacophony yet you ignore it because you are far away in Maine and the wall of sound is different here.
Bird song, rustling beach rose and rocking waves during high tide. Immense beauty and peace.
You watch and listen to birds of all sizes, demeanors, and the adorable Atlantic Puffin.
Then there’s the Seagull.
There are many varieties; three of the most common here in Maine are the great black-backed gull, the ring-billed gull, and the herring gull.
Just not the ones you see at Jones Beach on Long Island, NY. They may look alike but Long Islanders call them flying rats, (great name for a punk band), and they aim for the food that the tourist, unbeknownst to them will be swooped up in seconds, and that’s right out of one’s hands. No couth. They even wait for you at your car.
On Long Island, in the winter, one can see the collective flock on the beach, feathers all a fluff from the strong winter wind. They are positioned as if on an aircraft carrier awaiting orders.
Incoming prey; innocent family bumbling along with their gear for some fresh air and fun.
Noticing the 8-year-old boy walking behind his parents, awkwardly carrying his hot chocolate, an extra-large chocolate chip cookie and his set of Pokémon cards, the flock of seagulls have accepted their mission. Now, if you have ever been accosted by a gull, it is like that Hitchcock movie The Birds, only without the blond coif and fur coat. The seagull takes a nosedive aiming towards the cookie. That’s where the Pokémon cards are, or rather, were.
Colorful flying Pokémon explode out of his pudgy hands and up into the chilly air. Hot chocolate spilling on the cold damp sand forming designs not unlike blood spatter. Turning around, the parents, dropping their opened bag of chips and buttered bagels, see their son in a flying Pokémon ballet as he gracefully tries to catch each one; arms outstretched legs a leaping he grabs Ho-Oh, Pikachu and Lugia, the Master of the Sea.
I envision a surreal match of wits happening.
I imagine Ocean Souled Lugia coming to life as Mega Lugia EX!
He uses his immense wingspan, and his ability to blast jets of water at his prey!
There he goes, swooping down on the oblivious gulls forcing them back to the carrier ship. The gulls evolve into Wingull and glide away as fast as possible. No match after Lugia saves the day for his 8-year-old trainer.
Successfully collecting all of the cards, parents and son are left with a crime scene of empty Ziplocs and a chill in the air. The boy holds out his Lugia card and thanks him for saving the day and watches him fly far away towards the Atlantic Ocean.
Maine gulls are not exactly like the daring obnoxious ones from Jones Beach, but they have their skills.
The Herring gulls begin their reconnaissance once they see the family pulling up to the cottage for their summer vacation. They watch how many kids pour out of the SUV as that determines how much they’ll be eating this week; lots of chips and lost hot dog rolls.
Coy, they play the part of Jonathan L. Seagull just to make the vast ocean look pretty and inviting.
They toy with the kids running across the grass as they beg Mom to give them more cheese doodles to toss up to them. Then, when Dad starts the grill, the main gull perches on top of the cottage.
The choking call is very familiar to all who have come in contact with seagulls. That wonderful sound is also letting the flock know that there is a shit load of scraps that the kids are secretly tossing so get your wings over here!! They start coming from everywhere: the tall balsam firs, the white spruce, and even zipping up from the rocks. They have no problem taking a seat at the table!
Ah! Dinner!
My pleasure of bird watching brings on excitement and tranquility at the same time. Maine does that to you. It has moments of solitude and boat races. Prayerful sanctuaries and large crowds at the Pumpkinfest and the largest Pumpkin Drop in the state. (Yes, crane and all!)
But my time is best spent on that rocky coast wrapped in a sweatshirt and shorts watching the tide roll in and out mesmerized by the song and sweep of the flying dinosaurs.
I pretend that I am that gull gliding across the Atlantic feeling the cold wind under my feathers. It’s one of my dreams before I am dead-to go hang gliding and feel like that bird I am watching now. I also want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane and pretend I am with my Supa-duper paratrooper Dad from WW2.
So, when I was daydreaming the loud cawing of crows alerted me to something happening. I saw five, ten then about 20 crows in a V formation. Right above me and then over the ocean, only to dance back towards me.
There were other single crows flying very low around me. They were very close to my air space! Like their winged peers, they came above and through the balsam fir, around the cottage and up from the rocks.
Louder and louder, they cawed.
Again, I am reminded of the Hitchcock flick, where the crow took center stage.
Crow and Company came to see me.
They came to send me a message. It was time I listened.
Crows are intelligent, adaptable, versatile, and extremely smart animals.
Crows appear to alert you to the presence of spiritual shifts taking place around you and to remind you to pay close attention to the spiritual signs that are being conveyed to guide you in the right direction. (Miller’s Guild).
This wild encounter is telling me to consider this as a message about taking a fresh perspective on my life. They may be prompting me to rise above my situation and look at it from a different angle. That angle can mean transformation to make changes in my life, to confront some deep-seated difficulties hanging out in my subconscious mind.
What is my next phase of my life and when?
Okay so I do have a lot on my mind.
How they knew and wanted to tell me is beyond my pay rate.
As I watched them swirl around me, and then for days said their good mornings, and flew high into the trees as I walked my dog in the woods, I felt an urgency to do the right thing for myself. So many times, for so many years I asked for peace, but I have been so afraid to speak up.
I want my life to be mine now. I want to explore more, I want to get out of this dull and dusty comfort zone and run, not away but towards a life that has filled up my daydreams.
Dreams are for dreamers. I want to live. To feel the dirt in my hands, the ocean spray on my face and listen to the wind talk.
As the Stoics say, memento mori (“Remember that you must die”).
My next phase of my life is now.
I am not afraid of death; I am afraid of not living.
So let me live.
Crows made their point. It is now up to me to prove them right.
After all, their feathers hold the secret messages of one’s soul.
So I am ready. And, my own Pokémon, Togekiss, will help carry me through my tasks to level up on my own evolving game of Life, along with Corviknight.
