|Also seen from the big windows, but nowhere near as lovely|
Monday, Alan, his fiance, the boss, and I were talking in the living room...the big windows were playing my favorite show...the great outdoors.
|The creeper crew, come by to clean up some well-aged venison|
Up flew a crowd of crows, maybe half-a-dozen or seven or so. They were a tight-knit little flock, not at all what you usually see with corvids.
There was a crow's nest up in the hedgerow this spring...it was fun to watch the crows drive herds of turkey vultures away from the meadow...there is a flat Bambi down on the Thruway and they often stop by to dine..... while grackles dive-bombed the crows.
I'll bet these were the fledglings, just out for first flight.
The wind was gusty and blustery, whipping around the house in a whirl. The great black birds used the spot where the winds come back together, not quite a lee, but more an invisible whirlpool of spinning air, to perform a crow ballet.
I know crows CAN be beautiful, the shine of the sun on a wing, the whisper of pumping feather edges as they row by...but this was stunning.
They tumbled and twirled and danced and swirled, one over the other and then under, like a great big merry-go-round, crow ballet. A veritable spinning ball of birds.
Then they lifted over the edge of the yard and were gone.
Crows as poets....who knew?