Just about every weekend I go to Dean�s shop while he finishes up some work. The shopping center usually sits empty on the weekends, with the exception of diners that visit this unpalatable Spanish restaurant every Saturday night that sits next to Dean�s shop. It�s usually quite peaceful there. It�s nice to be away from people and other every day unpleasantries. The parking lot is lined with a small grassy hill, on top of which sits a line of pine trees. These trees are a big attraction to a group of crows that have made these trees their home. I used to love watching these comedic characters. I loved watching the silly things they would do, or the creative ways they�d get whatever it was they wanted. I loved being able to recognize each crow from the other. I loved how peaceful and happy they seemed. However, Spring hits and that tranquility ends.
About 5 months ago, the pair of crows that live directly in front of the shop had a baby. I didn�t see the baby for the first two months or so, but I could hear him. Baby crows have a very distinct distressed cry. Gradually, he would make himself visible, especially once he learned to leave the tree and fly a little. By the time I did see him, he was already so big, it was hard to distinguish him from his parents. But I always knew it was him because his feathers never laid flat and smooth and he was always the one with his beak wide open, chasing after the other two, screaming and begging for food. Initially, I thought this was an adorable display. But after five months of hearing his nagging screams, this baby crow began wearing very thin on my nerves. As he got bigger, so did his voice and his demands. His cawing was virtually nonstop. It seemed that no matter what his parents did for him, he was never satisfied. They would feed him and he would want more. It began looking like he was wearing thin on their nerves as well. There would be other crows from other families that would be with his parents. They were not safe from this baby either. He began making his demands on the crows that were not part of his own family.
After a while, I no longer sympathized with the parents. I would watch them running from the baby, beaks packed full of food. All they had to do was stop and share the food with their baby. Only after several minutes of excessive screaming would they finally feed him. He�d be hungry minutes later and the whole process would start all over. If I owned a pellet gun, I am sure I would have used it. Don�t get me wrong; I love animals and I would never do anything to hurt one under any circumstance. But this baby crow�s voice was becoming an impression on my brain and the sound would hit the dead center of my ears. I never did do anything to force him quiet. I just dealt with it. I began saving food to give him, hoping to God that it would satisfy him. But when I began giving him food, I noticed that he had to compete against the adult crows. And though he was now bigger than most of the adults, he was still not developed physically and mentally enough to compete for this food. He still relied on his parents to feed it to him. And for some reason, although he was dependent upon them, they were still refusing to feed him immediately. He would still have to scream and beg. It�s not his fault that he is loud and annoying and demanding. He�s a baby that knows no better. His parents should know better. Maybe they do. Maybe this is their way of growing him into a survivor.
Last weekend, while in the parking lot detailing our truck, I saw the parents rummaging for food across the street. The baby remained behind up in his tree. He was being surprisingly quiet. Then he started in. What a dreadful sound. I could literally feel my nerves begin to tighten. But then he did something he never did before. He started playing with the different ranges of his voice, trying out new pitches and new sounds. He was developing into an adult! After all the screaming and tantrums, months worth, he was finally growing up! I couldn�t help but to laugh and smile. He was making different noises for the first time in his brand new life, some of the noises being quite adorable. And he was doing this all on his own. After all this time, he was becoming independent. He played with his voice and pretty much kept to himself for the rest of the day. I saw him fly from the tree to the building, and he looked so strong doing so. I saw him gather a little of his own food. He was growing up right before my eyes.
It hit me later that night. This crow was born around the time I conceived my own baby. And as my baby lives within me, growing and developing, this baby crow was in the world, trying so hard to do the same. And as outlandish as this may sound, this baby crow has actually been teaching me what it is to be a parent this whole time. He taught me that babies are defenseless and helpless and completely dependent on the parents. He taught me that as hard as it may be to do, as a parent, you have to sacrifice a huge part of yourself for the benefit of your child. He taught me to recognize the different needs a baby has through a new and strange form of communication. And he taught me that no matter how difficult it may get at times, no matter how much strain is put on me by my baby, it�s all worth every second of it. He taught me to never give up hope. Eventually, it all comes together to create the most amazing miracle of all.