Raven Dance

First I heard that unmistakable gutteral croak from somewhere above and behind me. Then four large black winged forms swooped over the house in loose formation, calling to each other as the two pairs veered in opposite directions. Each pair rose high into the air, dived one at a time and flattened out in perfect unison, Nature's version of the Blue Angels but so much better! As we stood on the porch looking out to the east, they wheeled and dived, joined together in a winged foursome, then separating into different pairs, just like couples on a double date who switch partners for a dance or two. Reuniting with their mates they continued to swoop and swirl, rise high and fall in closed-wing dives, leveling off to fly just under their partners. They flew in spirals in tight formation, wingtip to wingtip, then one would flip over, followed immediately by the other. The two pairs would meet in the middle and change positions, so that the pair that was on my left was now on the right and vice versa. I suddenly realized that the middle was right in line with our porch, and it seemed as if the show was for us. Maybe they noticed me standing there in my holey old robe and bedsocks, laughing and cheering and clapping, without regard for nearby workmen and passing cars. Maybe they really did take a bow as all four ravens once again gathered in the "middle" and flew as one bird low over the house and were gone.