If the kids weren’t in your backseat, I suppose it’s fair not to know that it wasn’t a school day, so school zone speed limits do not apply. February break, to the rest of the community, is just any other week day. The driver in front of me was intent to obey the traffic signs. So we crept down the street in front of the school, in the direct opposite of a hurry that the law states you need to be in the rest of the school year.

I, however, was starting a long-enough road trip where my patience was thin. Sure, I may have just pulled out of my driveway a trivial amount of time before. But in front of me were hours behind the wheel, and you all know how much I otherwise avoid driving.

The car in front of me was not in any rush. They maintained the same speed beyond the school zone. I took a long exhale. I watched the green traffic light at the forthcoming intersection, which had lingered for quite awhile, turn yellow and then red in what would have a been a reachable distance had the car in front of me applied the full legally-allowed pressure to their gas pedal.

The car in front of me turned on their right turn signal. I was going straight. Good. Please… just… get out of my way.

Another long exhale. Out of the corner of my eye, I see black birds diving at each other around an old church tower. Crows. I watch, having no where else to go. It’s weird, they don’t usually go after their own with quite this aggression. Four crows were swooping at a particular bird, which I am realizing is actually quite large. Far larger than the rest of the crows. It flies over the intersection, chased by the bravest. I see a diamond shaped tail.

My eyes widen.

It’s a raven.

Ravens are very uncommon sights in a city. City and suburban life somewhat mimics the perfect habitat for crows, who, pre-industrialization, preferred meadows and more open spaces. They readily adapted to the openness of humans’ built environment. Ravens are most comfortable in the woods. (This book is fantastic if you want to read about corvids.) As a result, I can count my raven sightings on one hand. I’ve seen them at the Tifft Nature Preserve, getting chased by crows. I saw one maybe 8 or 9 years ago next to the sideways house on the West Side. I saw one a year ago at St. Francis school, also chased by crows. You can discern the difference by their size, their beak shape, their tail shape (crows’ tails look like fans, ravens’ tails are shaped like diamonds), and their call. Crows caw, ravens croak. Ravens prey on crows. Panicked crows are a good indicator of a nearby predator. In the same way the crows will dive at hawks or owls, they will also swarm a raven.

The raven flew out of my field of vision. The red light turned green.

Crows are my favorite bird, but seeing a raven is a treat for me. I would have missed it if I had been able to pursue my impatience according to my preference. If I stick to only what I expect, I miss the serendipitous opportunities. The slow car did me a type of a favor. I got where I was going, eventually, and was reminded to stay open to what is actually out there.