Over the last few hours two crows have been claiming their territory via a series of caws. Twenty minutes ago they were joined by a flock, a murder of crows, who all jabbered simultaneously and flew close to the house.
I love crows, and it wasn't always that way.
When I lived in New Hampshire for a brief time, there was a giant pine tree outside my bedroom window and another outside the bathroom window. Both were infested with crows. The din of these crow communities began early in the morning, and I worked nights. I hated crows with a passion. My heart felt light and happy when I saw one dead in the middle of our street. One for us!!
I don't know when the crow love began to overtake the hate. Maybe back at the old place, when I first heard them make the sound of castanets with their tongues. I just don't know why, but I think they're beautiful and funny.
On the way to work in the morning I pass the slimy green runoff from a neighbor's morning watering. Almost every morning, two crows march around in it like drunken sailors, weaving from side to side. It's part of the morning ritual of happiness.
Makes me wish today were a work day.