The long arm of the caw

rough trade in corvus society

The pyrex problem facing the crows caused a degree of consternation.

The biggest one - likely the dad - puffed up and held back.

One of the smaller crows, sleek and extra shiny was the first to act.

Seeing the peanuts, it crept up slowly, uncertain about this big crazy change.

The murder of them kept switching their focus. First looking at the bowl, then the young one, then back at me as if to say What the fuck buddy?

(crows love to swear. what you think is the sound of ‘caw caw’ is actually the crows saying 'fawk fawk!’ - fiy)

It looked like a surfer making a turn. Most of it’s weight was on its back foot as it edged towards this highly dramatic terrifying offering. The rail was slick with ice. The crow was a manic Bambi, edging cautiously closer, then leaping back.

There was no way I could convince it that the peanuts were safe.

I guess we all acclimate to newness in our own way.

Eventually, this brave bird was rewarded.

They reached in with their beak and with a leap made off with the pe…