sometimes perhaps we don't need to look up, too
Last night, walking to my car after the poetry shindig, I heard a crow grumble somewhere overhead and looked up. There in the leafless sycamore tree above me, covering the topmost branches like vaguely pointy blobs of darkness, were dozens of crows. Dozens and dozens: as I kept walking, I saw at least five other trees similarly crow-covered. I realized I was staring, and looked back down at the sidewalk -- proper human posture -- but still, it was remarkable. I know crows roost in the winter, but I can't remember if I've ever seen them gather in quite so public an area, in trees bordering a fairly busy street.
Apparently, according to other posts in that blog I linked above, crows don't care for shiny objects but they do like unsalted, in-the-shell peanuts. Since crows can remember faces, and know their (human) enemies and friends, I always feel like treating them with respect is the right way to go, but especially this time of year. There are rather more of them around than usual...
Apparently, according to other posts in that blog I linked above, crows don't care for shiny objects but they do like unsalted, in-the-shell peanuts. Since crows can remember faces, and know their (human) enemies and friends, I always feel like treating them with respect is the right way to go, but especially this time of year. There are rather more of them around than usual...