Eleven Kernels of Corn and a Button

I can guess where the kernels of corn came from.  There are corn fields on two sides of the farm.  Hard yellow corn grown to feed the dairy cows.

But the button is a mystery to me.  Along with who left it all by the back door.

As I bent down to get a closer look, I heard the crows.  There were four of them on the other side of the fence in the pasture.

Did they leave the corn and button? Or was it a mouse storing its stash in an inconvenient place. It could have all been pooped out by someone, the poop washed away in last night’s heavy rain.

I don’t know who the corn and button belonged to, but I took it as a gift.

Then I gave it back.

Those crows in the field were still there when I pocketed the button and placed the eleven kernels of corn on the fence post.  I added a shiny bauble from myself studio, something that might catch the eye of a crow as it glittered in the sunlight.

When I left my studio this evening, the kernels of corn and shiny thing were still there.

Maybe it they be gone in the morning.  Gathered by the crows or a small animal.  Or scattered by the wind.