The Ravens Call
I heard him before I saw him—a low, guttural croak that sent a shiver down my spine. Turning, I caught a glimpse of glossy black feathers as the raven landed behind me, its eyes glinting like polished obsidian. With a single, mocking call, it took flight, soaring into the endless blue sky, leaving me alone with the echo of its voice. My grandfather, a lost son of the Cherokee nation, used to speak of the raven as if it were more than a bird—a mysterious shape-shifter, a trickster not to be pursued. His stories, told by firelight, wove a tapestry of awe and caution, his voice low as if the raven might overhear.
To the Cherokee, the raven is a messenger, carrying the voices of ancestors across the veil. The Navajo, too, speak of ravens guiding lost souls, but their tales come with a warning: follow a raven too far, and you may cross into the spirit world, where time unravels and the air hums with voices that linger in your bones. One misstep, and you might never return to the living realm. Grandpa once told of a hunter who chased a raven’s call through a foggy woodland, only to find his shadow walking beside him, no longer tethered to his form. That story stayed with me, a quiet chill in the back of my mind.
The elders say when a raven perches, silent and staring, its gaze heavy with knowing, you must leave an offering—cornmeal, tobacco, a whispered prayer. For the raven does not forget, its memory as long as the rivers that carve the earth. Ignore it, and you risk its wrath. Its wings, they say, can cast a shadow that swallows you whole, drawing you into a realm where light fades and the world feels wrong. My grandfather warned of a woman who scoffed at a raven’s stare, only to vanish into the night, her footprints ending where the bird had perched.
Do I believe these tales? No, not in the way the elders did. I’m a man of reason, more at home with my Sony A7Cii than with spirits and shadows. But standing there, the raven’s croak still ringing in my ears, I felt something—an unease, a pull, like the bird knew more than I ever would. Respect it, I say. Leave it be. Offer a nod to its mystery and walk away. The raven doesn’t need your belief to hold its power; it demands only that you don’t tempt its gaze.
Shot on the Sony A7Cii with a vintage Minolta lens, capturing the fleeting moment that raven pierced the silence. The photograph is raw, like the stories themselves. What do you think? Ever felt a raven’s eyes on you, or heard its call in the quiet? Share your stories below. #Sony #A7Cii #Minolta #Konica #RavenTales
New Year, New Hope
Deana and Jefferson Davis arriving in Arizona on July 7th, 2024.
2024 began with a heavy sense of despair and overwhelming shock as I discovered that I am going blind far faster than I had anticipated. After the initial shock wore off, I managed to regain my footing in both work and daily life, we made the important decision to sell our beloved home while the market was still favorable. We decided to take a much-needed break in April to celebrate our anniversary, which allowed us to recharge our spirits and get back to work with renewed energy. It took a little while, but eventually, we successfully sold our home and embarked on the long, exciting journey across the country to the magnificent and sun-soaked state of Arizona.
Traveling across country in a Subaru with three dogs and a trailer was an adventure. We had a great time crossing the states, seeing parts of the US I had never seen before. We stopped in Oklahoma to spend Independence Day with family. That was an amazing week. My hope for our country and our people was renewed. We decided to set up home in Payson, Arizona, an amazing little mountain town in central Arizona. The natives here don’t usually say, Y’all or drink sweet tea like they do in my home state of South Carolina, but they are so similar. Folks here love and practice the Second Amendment. They wear cowboy hats and boots. A lot of men wear sidearms. It is a great little town, but due to being surrounded by National Forest and migration from California and rich people from the Valley, housing prices are extremely high. The housing market in Payson is higher than the majority of the state.
We were hoping the the housing prices would come down more than they have, but due to reasons already noted, prices are not going down. There is a limited supply and the wealthy retirement community do not want any more houses being built here. I have been preliminarily offered a job in Cottonwood, AZ, so we are moving there in a few months. We love Payson, but Cottonwood is an amazing town as well. The people and culture are very similar to Payson, and it is closer to the breathtakingly beautiful areas of Sedona and Prescott. The fantastic benefit is that housing is cheaper in Cottonwood and Camp Verde. Also, fires will not be an ever-present threat. Even though we are in the throws of winter in Payson, we still have a major fire nearby. There are possibilities of fires to the west in Camp Verde and Cottonwood, but the likelihood is rare.
The incredible amount of great people we have encountered in our journey moving to this beautiful place is truly uncountable. We have forged some amazing friendships here through our church and work, and each connection adds a vibrant thread to the fabric of our lives. The greatest resource in America is not just its land, oil, or coal, but rather its people, who are full of warmth and character. The vast majority of Americans are deeply patriotic and possess a profound love for our country. Spending cherished time with my family in Oklahoma taught me so much about our nation and the enduring love and respect that we should all strive to have for it.
Whether you agree or not, the surprising election victory of Donald Trump revealed to me that the people still have a powerful voice, and we indeed possess the ability to effect meaningful change in our society. It also filled me with a renewed sense of hope that the old adage, “If you work hard, you can have anything,” continues to hold true for the most part. There truly is hope. There is always hope, even in the most unexpected places. I never imagined that I would ever find someone who would love me, much less marry me; yet here I am, happily sitting at my desk across from my beautiful wife, Deana, who is currently engrossed in her scrapbooking project. You can read more about her scrapbooking, bible journaling, and life on her blog linked here.
It is with great excitement that I approach this new year. 2025 will be a great year, one for the books. We will be moving, starting life anew, and making even more friends. We the people will have a new president as of January 20th. The housing market is projected to transition to a buyers market this year. Companies will invest more with the hope of lower taxes. That, along with less regulation, will help us all and improve the economy.
This new year also provides a great opportunity to photograph more than I did this year. There were several months in 2024 that I didn’t get to photograph due to packing up, moving, and then unpacking, so I am exciting about starting new projects and restarting the zine once we get settled. What are you excited about in 2025?
