1. The cracked corn I put in the feeders attracted not only the squirrels and chipmunks but the crows too. One is drinking from the birdbath now, standing ankle deep.
Yesterday, I watched a crow washing it's wings in there. Another used the water to clean and tenderize something crimson, the color of a fresh kill.
Since then an intrusive thought persists. Was it a young bird? The toddler of one of the song birds I've been supporting? I saw no beak or birdish feet, and I looked for them, believe me.
A lesson wants to emerge and slap me around. Something about the claw and fang of nature lurking behind my romantic ideals. About the clueless privilege and inefficacy of intention and well-wishing. The misguided malice inherent in intervention.
But it doesn't quite come through.
2. Hey, is it okay that I'm sick of us?
Yesterday, I watched a crow washing it's wings in there. Another used the water to clean and tenderize something crimson, the color of a fresh kill.
Since then an intrusive thought persists. Was it a young bird? The toddler of one of the song birds I've been supporting? I saw no beak or birdish feet, and I looked for them, believe me.
A lesson wants to emerge and slap me around. Something about the claw and fang of nature lurking behind my romantic ideals. About the clueless privilege and inefficacy of intention and well-wishing. The misguided malice inherent in intervention.
But it doesn't quite come through.
2. Hey, is it okay that I'm sick of us?
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