My Wild Raven Friend

My wild raven friend came into my life without warning. One day in June 2025, he appeared. And then again the next day, and the next, until I realized this wasn’t just a passing crow. This was something different.  Six months have passed, and the wild raven has been a constant presence in my garden, except during a fierce windstorm when he disappeared for three days. I have wondered if he originally came here after getting blown off course in a similar windstorm, but I can’t remember the weather when he first arrived.

I also wonder why he chose my garden. I assume because I have no pets to scare him away. And, he may have seen me occasionally feeding peanuts to the neighborhood crows. I will never know for sure why, but I do know that I feel honored by his choice.

At first, I thought my new wild friend was a crow. But then realized he was larger, and louder, and had a voice unlike any I’d heard from crows. I also noticed his flight wasn’t smooth or effortless. He hesitated before taking off, never gliding high above the rooftops, always cautious and safe in his own way.

Our Bond Develops Over Time

Ravens can roam territories up to nine square miles, but not this bird. He was always nearby when I stepped into the garden, never foraging for himself. Soon, I began offering him cooked chicken breast, dog kibble, boiled egg, and salmon-skin treats. He turned up his beak at berries and greens and wisely ignored bread or junk food. That was perfect, since I avoid those too.

My nieces named him Raisin, and I set a feeding routine. Early morning, noon, and evenings, I left food on a tree stump next to climbing boards nailed into my jacaranda tree by a previous owner for his kids to climb. Raisin used those steps, which told me his wing might be injured.

Friendship with a Wild Raven

Months later, our friendship continues. He always knows where I am inside the house, capturing attention by hopping on the roof or staring through the windows.  Outside, he often sits on the back of a chair, or on a table, close enough to watch but not near enough to touch. I love that about him: his wildness remains intact. I can assist when he needs me, without changing his natural behaviors. Living in harmony with wild creatures is at the core of my nature connection journey.

The local wildlife rescue organization confirmed my actions, and Raisin has grown stronger. He glides to the tops of the neighbor’s tall sycamore trees now, chases away crows, and occasionally I see him carrying his own prey. Yet he still returns to me every day, chatting and puffing his feathers, and letting me know when he wants supplemental food. Or companionship. 

He has brought me gifts. An oval piece of wood pulled from his tree stump, and a hawk’s feather, laying each on the table I use when I’m outside with a cup of tea. Sometimes we share elaborate conversations,  other times, we sit quietly.  Once, he played hide and seek with me, ducking up and under the table while I chimed, “I see you… Now I don’t.” Watch the video on my YouTube channel here. 

I still don’t know if my wild raven friend is a he or a she, or if and when Raisin will leave my garden for good.  For me, that’s part of the wonder. Wild friends exist on their own terms, momentarily bridging the space between human and wild. And for those moments, I’m grateful.

For more on wild friendships I’ve made,  check out this post.