That morning, a dense fog tenderly caressed the Golden Gate adding a mysterious presence to every sound. As I drove slowly up the winding road to the tunnel, a sudden shadow swooped low over my car.

Landing on a guard rail, a raven observed me gravely. I stopped to call out a greeting. Each ebony feather boldly defined the raven against the soft gray fog. Mist-diffused light created no iridescent highlights.

Extending graceful wings, the raven lifted past the distant red towers of the Golden Gate Bridge, and with little movement climbed and circled into the fog.

Several times, while we recorded, ravens gathered noisily in the redwoods outside the tunnel. Their sounds add a special excitement and energy to the music.