As I was drawing in the highlights on a pair of raven feet, Raven flew directly towards my studio window, then veered to land in a big pine tree. My pleasure at his arrival turned to foreboding as he placed one foot in front of the other, moving purposefully through the branches towards a songbird's nest that I knew held three eggs. I ran into the garden, squawking and flapping my arms. Raven glared at me and took off before he reached the nest.
Two days later, I climbed a ladder to find only one egg in the nest. As I grieved, telling myself that this was nature's order, the egg moved! The remaining baby had pecked out much of the underside of the shell.
As I came down the ladder, hoping the mother would return, I saw a tiny yellow beak wobbling open-mouthed in a soft bed of leaves at the base of the tree. Another survivor! I placed it, pink skinned with random patches of gray fuzz, back in the nest.
Raven must have made off with the third egg, for there was no sign at all.
In two more days, the birds have doubled in size, but these babies may still be doomed. My friend David had five little birdkins snatched all at once and he's still moping like a grandfather denied visitation.
And I, recognizing that humans steal and eat eggs from nests every day, I have lost my desire to eat eggs.
This original drawing is pen, pencil, heart and mind on paper size 15" x 21"
Raven brought this mermaid to the high desert. To begin, start with Drawing Raven.
Truth and Memory 
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