The frosted meadow glitters in the sun. A scrabbling of squirrel claws on bark. Off to the south, a raven croaks; to the north, crows.
crows
Thursday November 24, 2022
The sun finally clears the ridgetop at 8:00. A crow at the compost has an exchange with a raven high overhead: caw caw caw ARK ARK ARK etc.
Monday November 07, 2022
Clear and cooler. A female cardinal flies out of a barberry bush, her bill red as the berries. Crows argue over fresh additions to the compost.
Thursday October 13, 2022
Rain tapering off by mid morning. The sun even emerges for one or two seconds, setting off a crow.
Tuesday September 13, 2022
Deep blue sky with last night’s rain still glistening in the understory. In the sun-drenched canopy, four crows sit yelling at a raven.
Wednesday August 31, 2022
Sitting on the ridgetop I become subject to the crows’ concern. A pileated woodpecker veers from its course. The sun comes up.
Tuesday July 26, 2022
It’s actually cold—54F/12C! A crow at the top of the tallest locust where the sun strikes has one thing to say and she is saying it.
Monday April 04, 2022
Bare branches mellowing the sun’s blaze. Two crows fly into the woods and one flies out. There are eight million stories in the naked forest.
Thursday March 17, 2022
Rain tapping on the porch roof. Robin song echoes off the hillside. From down-hollow, the sound of a crow mob.
Tuesday March 01, 2022
The sky clears at about the same rate as caffeine clears my head—a transitory state, no doubt, and host to a mob of crows.
Tuesday February 22, 2022
Gray with occasional showers. Distant crows. The face that I can’t unsee in the big red maple trunk with its expression of perpetual dismay.
Monday February 14, 2022
Instead of the gloomy morning I was expecting, the sky’s clear and there’s a fresh inch of dry snow. The crows are still exclaiming over it.
Monday January 24, 2022
Clear and still, with yesterday’s snow still clinging to the trees. Bergamot seedheads sport wizards’ caps. Crows yell about the sunrise.
Sunday January 23, 2022
A warmer morning, and all the birds are calling: Carolina wren, robin, crows, a flicker. Squirrels chase back and forth across the snow.