Once when I was struggling with a decision, I took a long walk and was aware of a raven trailing close, watching me and occasionally calling out. Since then I see ravens everywhere. A lone raven sat on the welcome sign as we entered Stonehenge last summer. Near the Grand Coulee Dam recently, a pair of ravens was nesting overhead where we stopped at an overlook. At a certain point in my morning walk, a raven consistently flies to a nearby treetop and calls a greeting — or maybe it’s a warning, though my preference is to think of it as a greeting. Large statues of ravens stand at the entrance to my favorite resort — this, I considered an especially good omen the first time I visited there. Yesterday evening on my bike ride a raven swooped down across the road, not five feet in front of me. I love believing that I have a totem animal.