Dreams are one of the perfect ways of getting far away from realities. But sometimes dreams get the best of realities. Not hoping to sound paradoxical, I have witnessed dreams outfox realities in space and time. I have seen dreams outmanoeuvre reality at several contests and in different contexts.
In some of my wildest daydreams, I have seen myself in a swanky land, surrounded by crystal clear rivers, green plants, beautiful valleys, mountains, colourful birds and beasts. It seems my inclinations towards nature are damn eccentric.
I have been able to create birds in my plastic planet. Beasts bursting through brambles and briers pass through my imaginations. Trees humming at lovely lullabies as they sway in sweltering heat and sending me into an afternoon fiesta. Then there are the gushing waters of crystal river running zigzag in a yonder land of wonder.
There comes a reality after every dream, and that reality may be a birthed, full-grown dream or a stillborn.
And as I come back to reality, I realize that it the season of short rains – from November to December. We can smell rain in the air. In the distance we can hear thunder reverberating, getting thither and hither. Lightning curves across the sky or perhaps shoot square to the ground as we look and watch for the rain to pour. The hairs on our arms and the back of our neck prickle with the change of voltage in the air. We sweat a bit at the heat and humidity in the air. Rain is near-term. And we feel the itch to talk about one particular bird that punctuates both the rainy and the dry season. It is the crow.
These birds have a reputation for being highly intelligent. They are well-known for their problem-solving and remarkable communication skills. They teach one another how to identify mean humans. In fact, it is believed that they do not forget human faces. They can pick you from the crowd.
Have you ever wondered why Hollywood depicts crows as birds of bad omen in their fantasy, adventure and history movies?
In many mythologies, a crow was considered an envoi of the gods and was associated with the Sun, weather, longevity, beginnings, bad luck and death. The bird is also linked to the visible and invisible worlds and was considered a bird of omen and divination. Their presence was interpreted to mean several things. Due to its intelligence and wiliness, the crow was also seen as a trickster. Perhaps as chicanery as Jacob of the Bible.
One day I sat down on a workbench at someplace to relax as waited for a sort of services. It was such a lovely evening, with no smell of storm. As my tradition, I surveyed the environment calmly and innocuously, taking note of everything around and about. I remained tight-leapt and engaged my eyes, letting them move up and down, side to side, like a chameleon. Then as I glanced at the sky, I witnessed crows, in hundreds chancing about in harmony. Defying the laws of gravity as they danced to the rhythm of the atmospheric beat. I could tell it was conspirito. They progressed in circles, beautifully, jouncing but without bumping into each other. They seemed to enjoy the game. It appeared to me that they were migrating. In African traditional beliefs, such kind of migration symbolizes an impending change in weather.
They unrelentingly carried on their business. In such a situation one can easily conclude that the birds are not making any meaningful progress. But for sure they were moving to their destiny.
Crows are not known to be communal. But it appears that during migration they break this rule. They are indeed clever birds, for they know the power of fellowship. They understand the strength in numbers. They exploit the advantages of partnerships. We can learn from these lovely creatures. There is a time to go it alone, and there is a time to go in the company of like-minded fellows. It is wise to form alliances in times of battles. It is prudent to weave warps and wefts when cruising towards our destiny (Leviticus 26:7-8; Deuteronomy 32:30).
Beside this, there is one particular thing that caught my attention. It is the ability of crows to play around and about as they fly to their new home. It is their ability to fly as they take chances without crashing into each other.
The birds would fly in circles, slowly and splendidly. They savoured each moment and enjoyed every time as they migrated. Migration is an adventure in hope, and the birds take it in full dose.
That is how life is supposed to be lived. Enjoying freedom in the prison of hope. Relishing every moment to bursting. Mingling without milling into each other, and taking time to explore the valleys and mountains of life. Taking the whole event as a pleasure and leisure.
That is how we are supposed to take life.
Divorce anxiety, cut off from worry and get married to joy and love. Otherwise, our blood pressure will shoot through the ceilings.
Enjoy your skin!