Category Archives: Ravens

Dancing in the Rain

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glacier

This morning’s soaking rain has turned the path down to Mendenhall Lake into an Olympic-grade bobsled run. At its base a young women in white tights, black leotard, her hair in a dancer’s bun, strikes an arabesque on a patch of snow. She seems as unaffected by the cold and rain as the glacier that provides her backdrop. Aki peers at the apparition, charges to a point a few feet away, then sniffs. I want to take the young woman’s picture or at least watch her dance. But whatever is going on, it has the feel of a private moment. So we slip and slide down to the lake where a raven leads us toward the glacier with that breed’s little hopping dance.

raven

 

Ravens Always Win

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raven

I don’t expect much drama on our Downtown walk. Because it offers a banquet of smells and even the odd chance for a scrap of food, Aki loves our route. I enjoy the way Gold Street plunges from Chicken Ridge and then jams into Gastineau Street, with its views of the channel, the backs of the Alaska Hotel, and the ruins of the old AJ Mine.

gulls

Even with the tourists ships in warmer waters, the whales in Hawaii, and our bears asleep, I find some visual drama. But, not from he Gastineau Street ravens, who drip casualness from their alder perches above the homeless shelter. But those that cruise the empty docks are jumpy and quick to fly. So are the gulls.

eagle

After climbing Main Street, past the capitol building, to Chicken Ridge we stumble on an aerial dog flight between our neighborhood eagles and ravens. The eagles look like they are hunting. Above then, four ravens make spiral climbs and then dive on the poachers. As is almost always the case, the ravens drive the eagles from their sky.

As Common as Geese

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L1220080I’d be here on the wetlands photographing mountain obscuring fog obscuring and tide flattened grass if not for the geese. Minutes from the car I spot a good size gang of Canadians feeding just across a small stream from us. Aki and I respect their space, keeping on our side of the stream, far enough away to avoid flushing them. In the process we inconvenience a pair of ravens who make way for us by gliding with their feathered feet down, twenty feet from the trail. L1220008

The wetlands Canada geese, like many of their cousins in the rest of America, no longer migrate.  They have made themselves common by hanging around, filling the air with off-key singing, L1220084and covering the ground with their ropey scat. I still enjoy seeing their white cheeked heads on top of long black necks.  While admiring this local gang, another flight of Canadians, maybe 20, lifts off from Douglas Island and flies towards the locals and then makes a series of wide circles around Aki. I could be holding a tether to the lead goose. On their third flight around us I get it. Aki and I are standing on their intended landing field. Before we can move further out into the wetlands, they give up and fly to a spot on the other side of the already feeding geese. L1220135