A murder of crows

I visited the countryside today. It was a gray day in late November, and the trees were waxing bare.  Their leafless branches extended into the cloudy horizon like skeletal fingers reaching for Spring.  Most of the pumpkins had been picked and placed strategically on porches in the city for seasonal effect.

I was quite fascinated by a gathering of crows.  They were all talking to each other and grouping in the tree tops.  The sound of their conversations was captivating.  Perhaps to an impatient human it sounds like meaningless clatter, but humanoids labor under the misconception that they are at the apex of intelligence, which thus becomes evidence of their oblivious, avaricious attitude toward our beautiful planet.  But, these crows were not discussing humans.  They were gathering to move on to another location, perhaps from the pumpkin patch to a field of corn, or another cornucopia of sustenance planted by farmers complete with scarecrows, which can be quite a source of dining amusement for a crow.

The talk continued and more and more of these fascinating birds gathered.  Then things quieted down, a few commands resonated from their leaders, and they all flew away, a murder of crows chattering noisily and flying to a distant location.  Things became quiet and I could hear the wind following them.  It was a pleasant visit to the countryside today.

~ Bob the Cat

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