Icicles.
Crows are my nearest neighbors. Oh, there’s a human couple that lives fairly nearby to the north of my place, but crows come closer, make more noise, and prove altogether more captivating.
Especially on a day like today. Today I found myself deskbound and cranky, stiff from lack of exercise, and wishing for deep lungfuls of clean, chill air. I’d look regularly and longingly out the south window across the room from me. And there I’d see crows. Crows flapping across Route 1. Crows swooping up and over the roof. Crows stalking the corner of the yard under the big red oaks, scrounging up bits of last fall’s acorns.
And I hear them through the windows and walls, their familiar caw-caw cries. Their alien syntax of multiple caws. Their guttural croaks and rattles. They’re communicating complex messages, I’m sure of it—salutations, declarations, observations. Once in a while they’ll start yelling obstreperously, and I’ll know a hawk’s about.
They hang around year-round, the crows. They pair up, mate, fledge young. They roost in the conifers up the hill. They squabble over food.
Crows are my nearest—you might say dearest—neighbors here at the base of the hill.
(This day began sunny and cold, then the temperature rose to near freezing. Around sunset I finally got outside for a time. It was nice to breathe the winter air.)
Today’s List
1. American crow
Tags: American crow
