The crows have returned. Around my apartment complex is the most glorious murder of crows, and they are back. They went away for what seemed like an eternity, which was the time of surgery, chemo, radiation and another surgery. I truly thought I might never see them again. But last evening the entire sky above my apartment was specked with flitting and darting arrows of black, with their caws so loud they drowned out the rest of the world. I just stood there, looking up into the grey clouded sky, with the wind blowing leaves onto me and the crows flying over me. Back and forth, back and forth they flew landing from the highest tree branch, the field just north of me or crisscrossing in the air. It was an Audubon Aeronautics show with more than 100 crows as the main attraction, and I had a front row seat.
I feel calmer when they are here. I somehow feel they are meant to be near me; they like to chatter and are up to no good and for some reason I feel akin to those behaviors. When they start their naughty in the early morning and it is the first thing I hear, I smile. I really like smiling as the first action of the day. I can just blink my eyes, curl up in bed, look at the bleak light peak through my curtains and with a few mighty caws I know my world is right. The crows have returned.
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