There was frost on the kudzu this morning but at least the sun was bright. The birds all slept in, except for a flock of crows that commenced an exceptional racket when I was about halfway through my walk. I tried to follow the sound, hoping I could see what had them so excited, but they kept moving just ahead of me. In fact, I never actually saw a single crow. They were like noisy spirits in the treetops.
Le corbeau et le renard, Jean Ignace Isidore Gérard, 19th century. (If you don't remember the fable, it's here.)
2 comments:
Hi M -- Yes, they are like spirits! And their cousins the blue jays, which have always seemed to me to be the gangbangers of the avian world.
A couple of years ago we had outbreaks of West Nile virus, which killed off most of the crows. They're coming back now. I actually missed them.
There's something scary-lovable about them, isn't there? They all have a bit of Brando in them, as well as something demonic.
Post a Comment