OMEN
Premonition or Superstition?
A journal of my friendship with a crow family
“When you don’t listen, you don’t hear. When you don’t look, you don’t see.”
When observation and imagination fill the gaps that science can't explain.
It’s believed by many, that crows are a symbol of bad luck and death, but by others, crows are the symbol of life, magic, and mysteries. They also symbolize intelligence, flexibility, and destiny.
Grandma often told me superstitious stories and myths. Most of her perceived omens remained unexplainable myths, but she always insisted that if we didn’t pay attention, who knows what would’ve happened. I didn’t become deeply superstitious like my grandma was, but I always kept my mind open for possibilities and for things I simply couldn’t explain by rational thinking.
In this short journal I reveal some of my observations and experiences with having the privilege to know a crow family for decades, and I also share a great memory of watching and raising a litter of orphaned fox pups. They were our guests for one summer, but they stayed in our hearts forever. Watching them using their instincts and developing their skills to become mighty hunters of the night had been an invaluable experience.
I’m a writer. Am I telling you a true story or is this a figment of my imagination? You decide. I wrote this story only for the purpose of entertainment, but I hope you will be able to relate to my observations, feelings, and experiences, and appreciate these intelligent, majestic birds as much as I do.
When observation and imagination fill the gaps that science can't explain.
It’s believed by many, that crows are a symbol of bad luck and death, but by others, crows are the symbol of life, magic, and mysteries. They also symbolize intelligence, flexibility, and destiny.
Grandma often told me superstitious stories and myths. Most of her perceived omens remained unexplainable myths, but she always insisted that if we didn’t pay attention, who knows what would’ve happened. I didn’t become deeply superstitious like my grandma was, but I always kept my mind open for possibilities and for things I simply couldn’t explain by rational thinking.
In this short journal I reveal some of my observations and experiences with having the privilege to know a crow family for decades, and I also share a great memory of watching and raising a litter of orphaned fox pups. They were our guests for one summer, but they stayed in our hearts forever. Watching them using their instincts and developing their skills to become mighty hunters of the night had been an invaluable experience.
I’m a writer. Am I telling you a true story or is this a figment of my imagination? You decide. I wrote this story only for the purpose of entertainment, but I hope you will be able to relate to my observations, feelings, and experiences, and appreciate these intelligent, majestic birds as much as I do.
Sneak Peek
We lived in a noisy city that never sleeps, when my friend, Marie, had moved to a small town in the mountains. Every time we spoke, she was singing odes about the beauty of country life. We visited them a few times, and fell in love with the small town in the mountains, too. Growing up in a small town, I never really adapted to life in the crowded city. I loved to be close to nature and craved the quiet life in the mountains.
After a long deliberation and weighing all our options, we decided to contact a real-estate agent to find a home for us. I was excited and a little anxious when the moving day finally arrived, which didn’t go as smoothly as we planned. My husband, Zoltan, was the manager of the co-op building and as the movers loaded the truck, the water pipe broke on the 14th floor, flooding the apartments below. He couldn’t make the over 100-mile drive with us, thus having to stay back to make sure that everyone in the building was safe, the pipes fixed, and the water damage cleaned up. My young daughter and I had to drive behind the moving truck and supervise the moving of furniture and countless boxes into our new home.
The three hours’ drive was tiring but pleasant, and when we pulled into the driveway and opened the doors, the driver and two helpers stretched their legs, and then sat on the patio for a few minutes before starting to unload our belongings.
“Can you smell that?” Pedro, the plump, friendly driver of the moving truck leaned back on the chair and asked, looking at the two younger men.
“I smell nothing.” The taller man in uniform sniffed the air.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, man!” Pedro exclaimed. “No smell of rotten garbage, exhaust fumes, nothing. Just clean air.”
“Yeah,” the young man replied with a dreamy expression on his face. “I wish I could live in a house like this.”
“Me too, my friend, me too,” Pedro replied, with a heavy sigh. “Maybe one day. But, let’s get cracking if we want to get home before sundown.”
I called my friend, Marie, who lived close by, and she arrived soon. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.” She hugged my daughter and me. “I’ve missed you guys, every day.” She scanned the loaded truck and the men carrying boxes inside. “Let’s get this stuff organized.”
My young daughter, Eszter, seemed lost and exhausted after the long drive and all the commotion of moving, so I asked Pedro to first carry her furniture up to her new room. While the movers were working, our long haired, silver cat, Fancy, started panicking in the pet carrier. When everything was upstairs, I let the cat out of the carrier in my daughter’s room.
Marie hooked up the TV and I got the snacks I packed for my daughter and the cat. They both calmed down quickly, the cat curled up on Eszter’s lap, and they settled in to watch cartoons.
We had a lot more furniture and boxes in the truck, so we got to work. “What a noisy bunch you got back there,” Marie commented, pointing toward the back of the property as I picked up a small box.
I was too busy before to notice, but when she pointed it out, I saw two crows and a pair of Blue Jays squabbling in the clearing between the tall pine trees. They made quite a ruckus as the crows chased the beautiful, blue birds toward the thick bushes.
Pedro seemed to be annoyed by the noise, and I detected a bit of fear in his eyes. “Crows are a bad omen,” he huffed as he was sliding the sofa from the truck toward his helpers.
Marie looked at me with worry in her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that too.”
I remembered what my superstitious grandma told me about crows. Her words came back so clearly. “When crows live by and a single crow visits you, it’s considered an omen of bad luck, indeed. But look!” I pointed to the clearing where two crows now stood on a tree stump, quietly watching us. “There are two of them, which means good luck. It’s a good omen, don’t worry.”
“Really?” Marie asked, surprised. “Tell me more. Yesterday there were seven of them noisy birds in my backyard. They creeped me out, so I shooed them away.”
“Oh! You shouldn’t have done that! According to my grandma, seven crows showing up in your yard heralds travel or a major, positive change in your life.”
“Rats!” Marie exclaimed. “Then I shouldn’t have shooed them away! You think something bad’s going to happen?” she asked and let out a short, nervous laugh, still eyeing the crows.
“Oh, come on, Marie, it’s just silly superstition. You don’t think crows can predict the future, do you?”
“I do!” Pedro offered with worry in his voice as he jumped off the truck and came closer to us, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “My mother was born in Mexico, and she always warns me about omens and signs. What if there are three crows? Yesterday morning there were three of them in my yard. I hate them creepy birds!”
“Well, my Hungarian grandmother had a rhyme or saying for just about anything, let me try to give you a rough translation of the verse she used to tell me about crows.”
After a long deliberation and weighing all our options, we decided to contact a real-estate agent to find a home for us. I was excited and a little anxious when the moving day finally arrived, which didn’t go as smoothly as we planned. My husband, Zoltan, was the manager of the co-op building and as the movers loaded the truck, the water pipe broke on the 14th floor, flooding the apartments below. He couldn’t make the over 100-mile drive with us, thus having to stay back to make sure that everyone in the building was safe, the pipes fixed, and the water damage cleaned up. My young daughter and I had to drive behind the moving truck and supervise the moving of furniture and countless boxes into our new home.
The three hours’ drive was tiring but pleasant, and when we pulled into the driveway and opened the doors, the driver and two helpers stretched their legs, and then sat on the patio for a few minutes before starting to unload our belongings.
“Can you smell that?” Pedro, the plump, friendly driver of the moving truck leaned back on the chair and asked, looking at the two younger men.
“I smell nothing.” The taller man in uniform sniffed the air.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, man!” Pedro exclaimed. “No smell of rotten garbage, exhaust fumes, nothing. Just clean air.”
“Yeah,” the young man replied with a dreamy expression on his face. “I wish I could live in a house like this.”
“Me too, my friend, me too,” Pedro replied, with a heavy sigh. “Maybe one day. But, let’s get cracking if we want to get home before sundown.”
I called my friend, Marie, who lived close by, and she arrived soon. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.” She hugged my daughter and me. “I’ve missed you guys, every day.” She scanned the loaded truck and the men carrying boxes inside. “Let’s get this stuff organized.”
My young daughter, Eszter, seemed lost and exhausted after the long drive and all the commotion of moving, so I asked Pedro to first carry her furniture up to her new room. While the movers were working, our long haired, silver cat, Fancy, started panicking in the pet carrier. When everything was upstairs, I let the cat out of the carrier in my daughter’s room.
Marie hooked up the TV and I got the snacks I packed for my daughter and the cat. They both calmed down quickly, the cat curled up on Eszter’s lap, and they settled in to watch cartoons.
We had a lot more furniture and boxes in the truck, so we got to work. “What a noisy bunch you got back there,” Marie commented, pointing toward the back of the property as I picked up a small box.
I was too busy before to notice, but when she pointed it out, I saw two crows and a pair of Blue Jays squabbling in the clearing between the tall pine trees. They made quite a ruckus as the crows chased the beautiful, blue birds toward the thick bushes.
Pedro seemed to be annoyed by the noise, and I detected a bit of fear in his eyes. “Crows are a bad omen,” he huffed as he was sliding the sofa from the truck toward his helpers.
Marie looked at me with worry in her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that too.”
I remembered what my superstitious grandma told me about crows. Her words came back so clearly. “When crows live by and a single crow visits you, it’s considered an omen of bad luck, indeed. But look!” I pointed to the clearing where two crows now stood on a tree stump, quietly watching us. “There are two of them, which means good luck. It’s a good omen, don’t worry.”
“Really?” Marie asked, surprised. “Tell me more. Yesterday there were seven of them noisy birds in my backyard. They creeped me out, so I shooed them away.”
“Oh! You shouldn’t have done that! According to my grandma, seven crows showing up in your yard heralds travel or a major, positive change in your life.”
“Rats!” Marie exclaimed. “Then I shouldn’t have shooed them away! You think something bad’s going to happen?” she asked and let out a short, nervous laugh, still eyeing the crows.
“Oh, come on, Marie, it’s just silly superstition. You don’t think crows can predict the future, do you?”
“I do!” Pedro offered with worry in his voice as he jumped off the truck and came closer to us, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “My mother was born in Mexico, and she always warns me about omens and signs. What if there are three crows? Yesterday morning there were three of them in my yard. I hate them creepy birds!”
“Well, my Hungarian grandmother had a rhyme or saying for just about anything, let me try to give you a rough translation of the verse she used to tell me about crows.”
***
See a crow alone, and your day will be a muss.
Two announce the arrival of upcoming good luck.
Three brings news of happiness and good health.
Four crows will predict imminent wealth.
Five foretells of sickness for a period of time.
Six warns of disaster, theft or pinching of dime.
Seven suggests travel and positive changes in time.
Eight crows rarely appear but predict grief in one’s life.
***
See a crow alone, and your day will be a muss.
Two announce the arrival of upcoming good luck.
Three brings news of happiness and good health.
Four crows will predict imminent wealth.
Five foretells of sickness for a period of time.
Six warns of disaster, theft or pinching of dime.
Seven suggests travel and positive changes in time.
Eight crows rarely appear but predict grief in one’s life.
***
“Dios mío!” Pedro cried out. “I have to write this down and show it to my mother.”
“I’ll write it down for you, but take it with a grain of salt, Pedro.” I laughed. “Grandma wasn’t a supernatural expert, she just recited what she had learned from her superstitious parents.”
“The old people knew! They had time to listen to nature.”
***
After the movers left, Marie went upstairs to check on Eszter and came back down, smiling. “They’re adorable, both fast asleep, curled up on the carpet. I left the TV on; I didn’t want to wake them.”
Marie and I continued unpacking boxes in the kitchen, and once in a while, I looked out the window. I saw the crows flying up a pine tree and later standing on the tree stump. It was quite clear that they were watching the house.
Finally, the kitchen was organized. I made coffee; we both needed a break. Marie and I carried our steaming cups outside and sat by the back door trying to relax our aching muscles.
“They’re still watching us,” Marie observed, jotting her chin toward the crows as she shook her long, blonde hair from the ponytail. “Menacing looking birds, I tell you.”
“There is nothing menacing about them, they’re beautiful birds,” I scolded Marie. “It’s just that people think they’re a bad omen because they don’t know them, and all the superstitious stories they hear about them. Just like black cats. There is nothing sinister about black cats. They’re beautiful animals that happened to have black coats.”
“Yes… but still. Their sounds make the little hairs stand up on the back of my neck.” Marie shivered and took a sip from her cup.
“They seem to be a mated pair,” I said trying to ease her tension as I stood up. “I have walnuts in the cupboard, I’ll give them a few pieces.”
With a handful of walnut halves in hand, I slowly walked toward the tree stump which seemed to be the pair’s favorite perching place. When I got closer, talking softly, I extended my arm and showed the walnuts in my palm to the birds. They flew off lazily and landed about twenty yards from the tree stump, watching my every move.
I placed the walnuts on the tree stump and walked back to the house. “Julius and Julia. Good names, don’t you think?” I asked Marie.
“What?” Marie looked at me, surprised.
“Names for the crow pair.”
“Yeah… yes. You’re naming the birds, of course,” she giggled and rolled her eyes, mocking me. Her expression quickly changed to awe. “Look!” She pointed toward the tree stump. “They’re eating the walnuts!”
“I think I’m going to be good friends with those two.”
Marie shifted on her chair, “You and your animal friends! You can even make friends with a cockroach.”
“Nope, I draw the line there.” I shivered, remembering the pesky bugs scattering in the laundry room of the apartment building when I turned the lights on. “I hope we won’t need to fumigate the house here. I had enough of that in the city.”
“Well, there are bugs here too, but not as bad as the city bugs, and no rats, and who knows what else, in the sewer pipes either. We have lots of mosquitoes, though, but at least, no cockroaches.”
“I’ll write it down for you, but take it with a grain of salt, Pedro.” I laughed. “Grandma wasn’t a supernatural expert, she just recited what she had learned from her superstitious parents.”
“The old people knew! They had time to listen to nature.”
***
After the movers left, Marie went upstairs to check on Eszter and came back down, smiling. “They’re adorable, both fast asleep, curled up on the carpet. I left the TV on; I didn’t want to wake them.”
Marie and I continued unpacking boxes in the kitchen, and once in a while, I looked out the window. I saw the crows flying up a pine tree and later standing on the tree stump. It was quite clear that they were watching the house.
Finally, the kitchen was organized. I made coffee; we both needed a break. Marie and I carried our steaming cups outside and sat by the back door trying to relax our aching muscles.
“They’re still watching us,” Marie observed, jotting her chin toward the crows as she shook her long, blonde hair from the ponytail. “Menacing looking birds, I tell you.”
“There is nothing menacing about them, they’re beautiful birds,” I scolded Marie. “It’s just that people think they’re a bad omen because they don’t know them, and all the superstitious stories they hear about them. Just like black cats. There is nothing sinister about black cats. They’re beautiful animals that happened to have black coats.”
“Yes… but still. Their sounds make the little hairs stand up on the back of my neck.” Marie shivered and took a sip from her cup.
“They seem to be a mated pair,” I said trying to ease her tension as I stood up. “I have walnuts in the cupboard, I’ll give them a few pieces.”
With a handful of walnut halves in hand, I slowly walked toward the tree stump which seemed to be the pair’s favorite perching place. When I got closer, talking softly, I extended my arm and showed the walnuts in my palm to the birds. They flew off lazily and landed about twenty yards from the tree stump, watching my every move.
I placed the walnuts on the tree stump and walked back to the house. “Julius and Julia. Good names, don’t you think?” I asked Marie.
“What?” Marie looked at me, surprised.
“Names for the crow pair.”
“Yeah… yes. You’re naming the birds, of course,” she giggled and rolled her eyes, mocking me. Her expression quickly changed to awe. “Look!” She pointed toward the tree stump. “They’re eating the walnuts!”
“I think I’m going to be good friends with those two.”
Marie shifted on her chair, “You and your animal friends! You can even make friends with a cockroach.”
“Nope, I draw the line there.” I shivered, remembering the pesky bugs scattering in the laundry room of the apartment building when I turned the lights on. “I hope we won’t need to fumigate the house here. I had enough of that in the city.”
“Well, there are bugs here too, but not as bad as the city bugs, and no rats, and who knows what else, in the sewer pipes either. We have lots of mosquitoes, though, but at least, no cockroaches.”