An Offering for the Crows

My boyfriend Scott was inside the cafe paying for a coffee for me, pesto pizza and a croissant sandwich for both of us to share. I found a spot in the sun on the deck out back. A perfect morning getaway with the creek running by and the blue sea of Bodega only a few minutes away. A couple lazily read in the sun on the lounge chairs next to me. Crows hopped along the railing. The resident blackbirds with penetrating steel eyes found the large cup of water shaped as a sun yellow tea cup placed on the steps for the animals to drink from.

We were at a stop near Jenner. A cafe with smooth coffee, music on the weekends, and yummy baked goods. The coffee shop Gold Coast Coffee is in the town of Duncan Mills surrounded by forest, cattle country, a neat square of shops across the street and the River's End around the loop nearby.

The sun on my back, we talked of our adventure, looking for the Monarch Butterflies at the Children's Bell Park off Hwy 1 on the coastline through Bodega. The day was gorgeous, slow (no one around on a Tuesday), warm, and the sun lit up everything it touched in vibrant early spring colors. Finishing our food, I watched as Scott got up and placed an offering on the railing for the crows. The last piece of the pizza. As soon as he turned around one of the crows grabbed the pizza crust, strutting up and down the rail, not letting go. His partner watched from the tree above. Scott returned with the rest of the croissant leaving it for the crow in the tree.

Watching Scott take care of the crows, I was reminded of my pet sit clients who lost their property in the Sonoma County Tubbs Fire that consumed our valley last October. They gave offerings to the crows too. Corn and sunflower seeds. My clients started the ritual when they noticed how the crows would fly from their chicken coop to their home a short distance away firing alarms of shrieking and cawing to let them know a fox was stalking the coop.

In honor and respect and to build a partnership/friendship with their resident crows, my clients placed peanuts on the fence posts and spread corn and seeds for the birds as a treat, a reward for their service.

Recently, Scott and I visited my clients in their new temporary home over a hour away from their property that burned to the ground. They told us, they still feed the crows, making the winding long drive back several times a week to place the seed and treats in the same spot near the ashes left from the fire that burned everything.

Scanning the news, you would think people are hard and unfeeling. That there are only a few, a handful of heroes. Only some of us know and feel compassion and empathy. The rest don't vote as we do, have different value systems, are selfish, and just don't care.

Everyday, I am witnessing the quiet and selfless acts of the people around me. All different than me. And the same. Most likely, you won't read about them or see their photo on social media or in the paper.

They are here.

Surrounding us.