Yesterday, my head was buried in decision making when I heard the call. Sitting in my sunroom, I can look over the northeast of the city, and even more of the sky. This day the sky was bright blue, trimmed with thin cloud lace. I heard it again.
Where? Through my window I could see four crows swirling in the universal spiral direction. I know those crows. They are neighbors. But there was something else.
I stepped outside. Right above the house, hidden by the limited perspective of the window frame, were four other birds. Four other birds also swirling in a universal spiral. I squinted. Then my eyes widened. My mouth opened. My brain opened. The fist in my stomach opened. I looked from crows to birds above. No way. Yes way, as I heard the call again.
Four hawks. Four crows. Spinning next to each other. It could only mean one thing. It was obvious.
In my head I heard “When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way, from your first cigarette to your last dyin day.” It was “West Side Story” of the sky, people! Crows vs. Hawks!
Actually, it all felt quite sacred, even after my penchant for cheeseball stepped in. I watched for a while, as the crows peeled off one by one and the hawks spiraled higher and higher. Then they too let the trajectory of their curves extend to different corners of the sky.
This is what I’m still feeling from what was a weekend of mixed experience. This story and these pictures pretty much sum up my state of things right now. (Thanks to Charley over at Country Fried for turning me on to Jessica Tremp).
Hello Monday, I love you.
(Late morning edit to say: The day got off to a pretty miserable start after I learned this news. I moved about with shattered hope for our relationship with nature, focusing into Fern as at least one place where effort isn’t tossed into a black hole.
Then, we went to the back deck to gather some pots, and zzzzzzzzzzip brrrzzzzzzzz down flew the hummer from the garden next door. Two feet from us, Fern reaching out with squeals, and it actually came closer. Up, down, all around us. Then it went to the remainders of grandmother spider’s web from last summer. Snip. Snip. Snip. Collecting strands for its nest. Joyous!!!
Then. THEN. (Yes, there’s more!) I was a block away, transplanting into the aforementioned pots some nettles I found in a treewell. Above my head I heard the neighborhood crows and thought “Something is wrong”. Looking up, I saw three crows dive bombing two hawks (Cooper or Sharp Shinned). Around and around above my head they soared.
So Monday, I was actually kinda kidding before. But now I mean it. I love you. For reals.)