Ravens remind me of the world we cannot see. Their voices speak with a babble of magic, laughter and cackle. They are old warlocks and witches of the sky, descendent from first days. On this day, I heard him speaking just above our window. Out on my balcony, I zoomed in the lens. He noticed, looked directly at me, and dove - right at me. I ducked into the sliding door as he pulled up and sailed over the roof and away.