Hope rides on her wings
WHITE RAVEN
~Memory~
In the Circle of Hel White Raven rides upon Hel’s left shoulder. She represents memory. When Odin carried the ravens, “Thought” and “Memory” out of the circle both were black. Odin never worried about “Thought” but was not sure if “Memory” would survive. It can be read as a story of the changing of aeons.
Among Native Americans the tale is somewhat different but still takes place at the end of an epoch. A Hopi story goes something like this;
In the long ago time Creator made White Raven as a bridge between the spirit world and the mundane world. White Raven was lonely in the empty world so Creator made White Buffalo. They were soul-mates. The above and below. In the day White Raven would fly about and find succulent grasses for White Buffalo to graze upon. At night she rested upon his back.
When Creator made the mud-men (that would be us) he cautioned them that they may have anything for their use but not White Raven nor White Buffalo. Predictably a mud-man killed White Buffalo. White Raven in her grief cried the great flood. Mud splashed upon her turning her black. She turned her back on the world of men and flew across the spirit bridge leaving her black shadow form behind. She told those who could hear that she would return only when mankind was ready to walk the path of harmony and beauty.
The Hopi waited for millenia. Then, several years ago, White Buffalo reappeared now there are many.
White Raven is flying in our local skies.
She is radiant.
Has memory returned?
Does she herald the dawn of a new age when man can walk the path of harmony and beauty?
~~~~
I began dreaming of a white raven in the winter of 2002.
I had never heard of one. I asked my birder friend, Michael but he had not heard of any. Michael is also a sculptor. He carved me a white raven in alabaster. I placed her on a glass table in an east-facing window where the rising sun can shine through her beak and wingtips. Beautiful.
About a year after the alabaster raven arrived to grace my living room, Michael called full of excitement. A white raven had been sighted in our local desert. We went out for days with binoculars slung around our necks. We hit all the raven hotspots, like the dumpster behind the ribjoint. We saw lots of ravens but none white. We eventually did meet her. I have since seen her several times. She is not albino but a true white raven. She now has offspring who are also white. When I first saw her she was in the company of two black ravens flying on each side of her. She is large and radiant. Stunning in the sky.
She gives me hope.
Happy New Year
Good Morning!
How Glorious. She gives me Hope too.
Comment made on January 4, 2008 @ 10:37 am
She is a beauty! And I too am feeling a sort of quiet hope now - like the first glimmerings of change are in the dawn breeze. We shall see what unfolds.
We have many black ravens here in the winter. They are also magnificent birds, all fluffed up in the cold and snow.
Comment made on January 4, 2008 @ 1:11 pm
I count Ravens among my best friends. They are awesome creatures.
Comment made on January 4, 2008 @ 1:16 pm
Lynda, welcome to tseka.
Thanks for your comment, she really is glorious. When i first saw her i had just pulled out from under a canopy at a gas station. She was circling with the two black ravens right above me. It was electrifying. For a few seconds my arms and legs turned to water. Then i remembered i had a camera, i reached down for it but in those seconds she disappeared.
Among all of us who have seen her only a few photos exist, and it is not for want of trying.
Comment made on January 4, 2008 @ 1:31 pm
This is hopeful!
)
There is a Welsh tale of Branwen (bran wyn, White Raven) but I don’t get the impression it has to do with the sacred. Although I could be wrong.
Comment made on January 6, 2008 @ 8:24 pm
Joe!
You will know this story better than i, as i recall Branwyn was associated with “love and beauty”.
The tales turn and twist but i often find cross threads among the circumpolar myths.
Branwyn would be with the Arthurian times and the search for the holy grail well after the floods. This is one of Pat Paquette areas of interest. Too bad she can’t join us.
I am always amazed at how well our memories have kept these stories alive.
If we tell our children bedtime stories then one night leave out part because we are tired they are quick to correct us. If you want history to last make a nice faery story….
Comment made on January 6, 2008 @ 9:02 pm
From Wikipedia: “Branwen died of grief that so much destruction had been caused on her account,”
Wars, and total destruction of two Islands and nearly all of their people…
Dying of grief-
Mankind out of balance and harmony.
Near total destruction.
Comment made on January 6, 2008 @ 9:13 pm