They were still there on my way home.
A murder of crows in the farmers field, all in constant motion.
I went to get my car undercoated this morning. Since moving upstate, most of my cars have died, not from engine failure, but because they rusted out from underneath. Forty five minutes on roads I’ve never driven on before to get there.
The crows were a gift.
This was no lighted parking lot, like the crows I saw going to roost on the way home from my root canal two months ago.
But I imagine the idea was the same. The crows gathering for warmth, safely and to trade information.
The road empty behind and in front of me, I held up my iPhone and clicked a few pictures. In the photo they are dashes and dots, but in reality they were a whirlwind.
We have three resident crows. Parents and a grown up baby that a year later still spends most of his time with the family. The parents smooch almost every morning on a telephone wire outside my window. Some days I can tell they got into an argument because they will separate from each other a few inches, one of the pair will try to move closer and the other will ignore them. The fights don’t last long,
Ha! that’s really interesting Janet.
the crows were talking about a murder?
I’m not sure what they were talking about Dave, I just know that a large flock of crows is called a Murder of Crows.