Ravens, Owls and Weasels

A weasel killed one of our little hens two nights ago. At least it was a clean kill; she died quickly. This morning, before first light, I headed out to the chicken coop to see if the humane trap we had set the night before had captured the culprit. Six steps from the backdoor, I just had time to register the sillouette of a Great Horned Owl not four feet in front of me before she floated into the dawn on silent wings. They are bigger in person than they are on TV! Fully awake now, heart beating a little faster, I discover that our predator has weaseled out of the trap.

In New Mexico Hispanic culture, owls are the omens of death. If she'd come the morning before, I'd have suspected she was there to announce the little hen's death. Now I wonder, are we in for it, again. Maybe it was just a post mortem.

Ravens, too, have a mortuarial vocation. Just doin' their job. I remember this fellow from last winter, gathering at the remains of some unfortunate, suicidal bunny on the road. I keep it all in perspective by remembering that I just eat mine off a plate. God provides for me, just as He does the raven, the owl and the weasel.

"Raven in Winter"
6" x 8" Oil on board
$75.00 Purchase