An Echo at Mesa Verde

Raven fledgling at Mesa Verde

Last Summer I spent a few afternoons sitting on cliffs, watching ruins. Waiting for something to happen.

I was trying to get a good photograph of a bird at one of the ruins. Hopefully the bird would be a raven or a hawk…that would have been ideal. I did finally get some photos, but they weren’t quite what I was hoping for.

What I was hoping for was, a cliché - a photo emphasizing the antiquity of the ruins, the life that lives there now, that sort of thing.

What I got instead was a strange echo from the past.

 

A Raven flying in front of a cliff face at Mesa Verde. I love the way his wing tips flex against the air

I was at Mesa Verde, at the overlook across from Spruce Tree House. I don’t typically like to go to Mesa Verde for photography. It’s usually too busy, too crowded. Recently, though, the Park has closed down public access to Spruce Tree House. The shutdown means the ruins there have been nice and quiet. Perfect.

One of the problems with trying to get photos of birds at ruins is that if you’re too close to the ruins, you frighten the birds and they won’t come by.

On the other hand, if you’re too far away from the ruins, you can’t easily get a photograph because of the distance. When birds finally come by, you find yourself sitting there and watching the birds perch in just the perfect positions, and say to yourself: “Gee…I sort of wish I were closer.”

That’s not as much of a problem at the Spruce Tree House ruins, though, because they are in a narrow canyon. They are far enough away so the birds don’t spook, but close enough that you can get reasonable photos. Nice.

As an added bonus, I knew there was a family of Ravens nearby that had just fledged three youngsters. I’d had an eye on these birds over the last week or so. Watching them was great fun, like watching feathered monkeys playing. They were very loud and mischievous.

I called these birds the “Snack-bar Ravens” because they spent a lot of time over at the Mesa Verde snack-bar, They would steal scraps of food from tourists and, believe it or not, rubber gloves from the employees. Given how active and curious these birds were, I was pretty sure they’d do something interesting if they flew over to the ruins.

The fledgling Snack-bar Ravens, gloating about recent crimes. They found the world endlessly entertaining.

I knew the Ravens were in the area, that they were comfortable with people, and that they were not that far away from some ruins. So I was betting that they would visit the Spruce Tree ruins eventually.

And the ruins were just at the limit of where I could photograph the birds, if they came over. That sounded ideal.

So I drove up to the Mesa, went over to the ruins and sat. And sat. Then sat a bit more.

And waited. Waited quite a bit more, actually.

But eventually the Ravens did come over to the ruins. Not the main Spruce Tree ruins, but a granary ruin a little higher on the cliff.

Perfect. The light was good, the camera exposure was good, the birds were right at the limit of what I could photograph. At last. I took the shot. Ah, that’s nice,…that’s the photo I was trying to get.

Raven in the door of a granary ruin. This is pretty much the photo I was trying to get.

I had my photo, but I kept watching the Ravens. If one picture is good, two would be better, right? More Ravens came over. I saw that one of the adults was over at the ruin, along with the fledglings. And the fledglings were begging.

Snack-bar fledglings and adult Raven at the granary ruin. The fledgling in the foreground, the bird that is crouching with its wings spread, is begging. Hmm.

The adult went into the ruin, and the fledglings followed, one by one. Looking through the door of the ruin, I could see movement inside, but could not tell what was going on. They stayed inside for about a minute.

Then the adult flew out and away, carrying something. The fledglings came to the door of the ruin and watched.

Adult leaving the ruin as the fledglings watch

Adult leaving the ruin as the fledglings watch. I was focusing on how cool the shadow looked at this point.

The adult flew a few slow circles, up and up, then perched on top of the cliff. The fledglings followed a minute or so later.

I could see at this point that the adult had something swinging, swinging, like a pendulum from his beak as he flew. He was carrying a bird. I’m guessing the Raven had a nestling Flycatcher.

Adult Raven flying to cliff top, carrying prey

Fledgling Raven begging from adult

Ravens raid other birds’ nests pretty commonly. When I’m back at the house, I’ll often hear a commotion from one of the local Magpie nests. Then see a Raven flying by as fast as it can, with a nestling hanging from its beak. It’s not pleasant for us to think about, but it’s the way of things, I guess.

What struck me about this sight, what I found so affecting, was the location and the circumstance. Many people think the Anasazi built their cliff houses for safety, since the dwellings would be easier to defend. There were at least a couple ‘waves’ of violence in the Southwest, especially around 1270-1280 AD. The timing of these episodes coincide with the change from dispersed housing on the sage flats to the more defensible, clustered communities.

I wondered if these dwellings were occupied around one of these tumultuous times. I’ll bet that they were, and that their occupants were at least aware of what was going on in the countryside around them.

Snack-bar fledglings begging from adult raven

Additionally, I’d recently read David Roberts’ book, Sandstone Spine. He interviewed some contemporary Navajos about the ruins near Comb Ridge, and how the Anasazi were able to build their cliff houses:

According to Yazzie, “The Anasazi built with ease houses in the cliffs. Their mind probably did all this and this was like a big competition between them. They started to fly and then got jealous of each other.”

…

Said another informant, “They learned to fly…that is why their houses are in the cliffs…[but] the Holy Beings had their feelings hurt by it…[and] said it was not good and killed them off.”

Watching these Ravens after reading this was, to me, a strange echo from a dark past.

Flycatchers raising their family in a home high on a cliff side, thinking and hoping that they were safe. As long as they were careful.

Then terrifying dark forms in black feathered capes ride up on the air currents, floating in through the doors and windows.They appear silhouetted in the doorways. Back-lit by the nearly blinding light of the outside world. Gurgling, clucking to each other with glee.

Have these ruins seen this type of terror before? Or is this the first time?

It’s also possible that I spend too much time staring at cliffs.

 

Sources:

Roberts, David. 2005. Sandstone Spine: Seeking the Anasazi on the First Traverse of Comb Ridge. Mountaineers Book.