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June 11, 2021

A crow gifted me a feather!

This June is so beautiful that it makes me forget all the current miseries on Earth. Waking up with the sun, the first thing I do is turn on the coffee machine. As it brews and fills the kitchen with its aroma, I pour enough cream for 3 to 4 cups of coffee into a pitcher and place a nice bowl of diced meat on a tray along with an omelette or boiled egg, cut fruit, cereal and nuts for myself and my early morning friends. Then I settle down on the back patio. Like every morning, they are there, hopping about and chattering, clustered on the glass canopy’s sloping roof. They jabber, shout and caw as if they were pop idols.

Then, suddenly, they fall silent. Their black eyes riveted on the tray of treats I’ve placed on the round tin table. They know they’ll soon be enjoying tasty bits thrown on the lawn, already flecked with young dandelions.

While drinking my third coffee, to my great surprise, one of them lands on my table. I am astonished. It was the first time a bird had come so close to me. I love crows, I talk to them and feed them every morning when the weather is good. I am not afraid. Maybe they’ve finally understood how much I love them. How much I miss them from mid-October to mid-March while they bask in the American South.

I am enraptured by this mysterious creature in front of me who seems to be begging me to listen. I stare at her and she remains motionless. Then, after this long intimate moment, the majestic bird opens its right wing, unfolding its feathers, that are even darker than night, one by one. I am dazzled, as are the 15 or so of her friends staring at us from the roof of the house.  The crow then uses its sharp beak to pluck out a long feather from its wing and gives it to me. I am practically trembling as I receive it. The black eyes of this mysterious friend penetrate the white of my own. Slowly she opens her mouth, and with a voice like raindrops to a thirsty soul, she tells me:



I am speechless; a talking crow with a long enigmatic message for me?

And who am I to answer? Will it hear me; will it understand what I have to say? 

- “Yes, dearest little Coco, I will listen and understand what you wish to tell me.”

 I am astonished that this crow can not only talk, but also knows the affectionate nickname that Dad used for me when I was a child.

- “I came to make sure you understood the first message.”

- “What message are you talking about, beautiful bird?” 

- “You know, dear Coco, but you didn’t dare to believe in magic. Do you remember the three envelopes given to you in a dream by a fairground fakir on the night of March 19th?”

(See letter “Last night I had a dream!” published on March 19, 2021, and available here:

- “I just recited the message in the first envelope. Do you understand it? You were worried that you hadn’t loved your children and those close to you enough. You were afraid that your poor heart would be punished. Don’t worry anymore.” 

- “Are you a magical bird?”

- “I am a mama crow married for life with many family duties. I have to help build the nest. I also find food, brood the young, raise our chicks and take care of our shelter. The other night, while looking for earthworms for dinner, I saw you through the window. You were watching the Judy Garland biography on DVD and you had tears in your eyes because the singer’s life was so sad and unhappy.”

- “You saw me crying?”

- “Yes, at the end of the movie. I also saw you copying the famous final line from The Wizard of Oz into a notebook.”


- “This sentence is for you, for your battered heart. Be more gentle with yourself. You are, dear Coco, a good, talented and generous person. And we crows love your treats, your smiles and the delicious attention you give us.”

- “Your house is surrounded by big trees and the forest is just steps away. What more could you want?” 

- “We crows are called birds of misfortune, but if you think about it, we could help you find happiness. We fly high in the sky and could easily catch an angel by the heel. An angel who could teach you about the magic of believing in the forces of the Universe.”

All my life I’ve wanted to believe in it. Once in deep turmoil, I even wrote a 200-page letter to the Ruler above, to implore his help. At that time, I stared at the sky night and day. I waited for an answer; a hand appearing from behind a cloud, a noticeable trembling in my heart. But nothing happened, and I concluded that the only road open to me was the one on which I had to carry a heavy burden. 

- “You are on the right road, dear Coco, and the pebbles along the way are hurting your feet less and less as you walk. Don’t you notice it? Go forward with joy, keep talking to the birds and use the beautiful feather I gave you. This feather has also been through a lot too, drenched in devotion to daily work.”

I am shaken; the brilliant crow is right. When I read that final line from the Wizard of Oz, I immediately wanted to believe it. The kindness and affection I receive from you, dear reader, is a balm to my heart; as was the applause for Judy Garland probably. Letter after letter, your many comments ornament my daily life, heal my wounds and allow my imagination to take flight. 

Forgive this flight of whimsy about a crow that gifted me a feather. With millions of little buds appearing on branches, my eyes, ears and heart are moved to join the magical forces of the universe.

And like an affable Spring, my whole being yearns for joy.