This morning, as I made my way through the park, I was suddenly accompanied by a good, 50 crows.
They flew overhead like an all black squadron, going back and forth as if they were doing relays.
And how quiet they were in their perfect formation, making me wonder, why they were there at 6:30 a.m. on a not-so-c0ld, December day.
Were they having a meeting, trying to decide where to go? North? South? To their country house in the Caribbean?
I couldn’t help feeling sorry for them, remembering that global warming is not just an Al Gore soundbite…it’s very real, and happening right now, while we act as if it doesn’t matter.
Nature, along with myself, will beg to differ on that score.
If The World Wildlife Fund sends me one more picture of a polar bear sitting on an ice cube, I’m going to pull out my hard drive.
I don’t know what to do besides recycling trash and sending checks, but maybe I need to crow about it, just a little more often, as one flies, so to speak… or 50.
SB
Can you tell the difference between crow, rook, chuff and jackdaw?
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No. But I’m just an ordinary thin girl. 🙂
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I’m just an ordinary fat man and I can’t tell the difference either.
p.s. “chuff” should be “chough” and I forgot “raven”.
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Oh well. What can a Brit and a thin girl do, I ask you?
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“Commune” I answer. 😉
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What a great word. Commune. From communion…the Communion of Saints. Saint Nick…Saint Mick…:)
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I don’t think there’s much chance I’ll be canonised any time soon.
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Ya just never know…:)
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Susannah, my grandfather had a pet crow that rode around on his shoulder, so the love of crows and ravens is hereditary. I have four life sized wooden crows perched on my fence posts. When a crow finds food he calls his brethren, even if the offerings are skimpy. About ten years ago, a raven with an injured wing showed up. I put out dog food sandwiches for him as he hid in our woods and drank from our stream. This went on for a couple of weeks before he disappeared.
They get such a bad rap.
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Gee Skinny, you should turn this into a kid’s story. Really!
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Crow on!!
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I will. Can you hear me?
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Maybe migrating to their New Year’s Eve destination. Good to be early. Get the best spots. BTW I love your holiday header.
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I took them from the Thingirl archives, those little mischief makers. Or better known as Santa’s Little vixens. 🙂
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Your last paragraph was a show-stopper. Fun!
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But the show must go on, as they say. Excuse me while I recycle some plastic. Sigh. Consciousness can be very time consuming Anne. 🙂
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Maybe they were planning there holiday get together and checking out the park as a likely spot. We don’t have a lot of crows here but we have pigeons, lots of pigeons, and they are messy and stinky. Maybe they could visit the crows in New York for the holidays.
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Woody Allen calls them rats with wings, but I feel for them anyway. Always foraging. Fighting over a piece of bread. I’ve been seen breaking up a pigeon fight, screwball that I am. I feel sorry for everything Patricia. Such a burden. Sigh.
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I just finished a story for Friday Fictioneers that fits here…no crows, but…
https://kindredspirit23.wordpress.com/2017/12/11/fall-of-our-discontent/
Scott
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