Note: If ever there was a Bird Woman, it was Renee Prince, who crossed to the other side on June 29, 2015 after a tough battle with cancer. This is her third post, in which she writes of crows, feather-gifts and telepathic communication between humans and animals. She was an author and a filmmaker.
By Renee Prince
“What a lovely story about your crow friend! A few months ago, I went to a lecture by a crow intelligence scientist, who found that they recognize human faces from just one encounter, and if the human did something bad (in this case banding a baby crow by taking it out of the nest against its parent’s wishes, then putting it back) the crows at the scene will remember that face for at least three years (the length of the study so far), and that they somehow “tell” their family, friends and children about that “bad” face, and the other crows react accordingly when the “bad” face is seen again, mobbing the person and following him or her, watching their moves and keeping tabs on them.
I will often have the strange feeling that when I see other hawks they know I am a “hawk friend” and pay me more attention, approaching me closely and staying with me for a while for no apparent reason. Once on a hike with friends hundreds of miles away from Tennerin, a hawk was flying above us and we started “talking” to each other, my answering him and he answering me back, after he initiated the contact by calling down to us. How do they recognize people as “hawk friends?” I don’t know, but a scientist, Rupert Sheldrake, has some fascinating theories on that kind of thing. You can find his books in most libraries and I would recommend “Dogs That Know When Their Owners Are Coming Home” to start, where he talks about how it may be that animals connect to us telepathically.
I have lots of feather gift stories, but one of the most recent happened the day before I was about to start filming a spiritually-themed movie dealing with a family in crisis and the healing effects of landscape (it was at Mt. Shasta, a magical power place, if there is one). In it, the lead character is shown the way up the mountain by a hawk flying down to her and communicating silently. The producer knew about Tennerin and my feelings for hawks, and I was walking with her through the woods when out of the sky a hawk feather drifted down in front of me. We took it as a blessing for our film. It will hopefully be out soon; it’s called “Dreams Awake.”
Thanks again for writing and sharing your wondrous hawk connections. I do miss Tennerin very strongly at different moments during the day as I drive around doing errands. After he left this season, I have a very real “empty nest” feeling sometimes. But that, paradoxically, is when I “connect” to him and feel our bond happening between us, awareness on his side as well as mine. I am attaching some photos of Tennerin.
Yesterday I looked out the window where the river goes by and saw an osprey (they had just arrived a couple of weeks ago to re-use their nest upriver) holding a perfect fish in his claws, facing frontward so it looked as if the fish was flying underneath the osprey. The osprey seemed so proud of his fish that I ran outside and called, “Congratulations on that great catch!” The osprey circled back around and passed in front of me again, instead of continuing straight on to his nest. I think he was very happy to sense that somebody down there appreciated his prowess as a hunter!
I am often tempted to leave a fish for the ospreys, every year. Maybe if we connect in a similar way to how Tennerin and I met, I will do that for them this year when they have hungry beaks to feed.”
Other Posts by Renee Prince: My Friendship with a Wild Red-Tailed Hawk