It was one of those small comments that has stuck with me for 70 years. Brother Fred saw a pretty big bird flying over the field, and said “A hawk! No, only a crow.”

And little boy Jonny took this in as a life lesson: to start with, a crow is to be considered a disappointment compared to a hawk. Which I understand, to a degree. Crows are much more common than hawks, crows will eat just about anything they find, whereas a hawk is a raptor, a bird of prey that finds and kills it’s meals.

But there was something else Jonny took in; that in this world there are things that are precious and special and other things that are coarse and common and one should not confuse them.

But I think that knowing this distinction only led me into an ongoing state of concern and uncertainty about my own judgements. Was I often being impressed by, romanced by something that seemed special, like a hawk, but in fact was a common crow?

Which added yet another dimension to my negative self image. I had lots of evidence that I was insufficient in many ways, but now even my judgement of quality in things that I observed was open to question.

Now we find out that crows are among the smartest birds, whereas hawks are just finely tuned hunters, with great eyesight and the ability to hover all day in rising air currents. Crows can solve problems and recognize people. 

So my attitude towards crows has changed, but I wonder if I still worry about the quality of my discernment about what is worthwhile, compared to the next one.