In my culture, Heiltsuk Nation, we believe that when we die it is an honour to turn into a crow.

Since I've lost my Granny Hilda, Aunty Esther, my mother, my cousin Amber and her precious daughter (also my cousin), I am and have been visited by at least 15 crows at a time once a day or more sometimes.

I believe they are watching over me, reincarnated as crows. It's not so much a "belief,” as in my heart, I feel their presence when they land closer to me than most crows ever do. I know they are checking up on me and making sure I am okay.

This only seems to happen when I'm doing the right thing, when I'm walking down the right path, not when I've started to steer my ship in the wrong direction.

Those crows, they know.

Dallas Hehr is a participant in Megaphone’s creative writing workshop at Onsite.