Trevor up the tree
From the perspective of one of the crows in the yard
Clack clack clack clack clack!
It moves quickly this one.
Slinky little sneaker it is.
Blends with the ground. Moves like the grass.
One moment. Down.
Not with a flap nor glide.
No no no. Awww!
But’t pulled itself up by paw and claw.
It went out on the limb.
The old limb.
The rotten limb.
The delicious rotten limb stuffed with the most delightful of chickadee chicks.
Oh how they writhe in the beak whilst you eat them!
There is nothing more delicious than fresh chick at sunset. Their little eyes so delightful to gouge out. Their little hearts so tender…
This one wanted the little chicks.
It went out and stuck it’s paws and claws into the hole.
I shouted at it:
Go away four legger! That’s my delicacy!
The four legger did not listen.
It pawed and pawed again.
The two leggers of the more robust variety offered food while calling out to the four legger.
The four legger kept attempting to steal my desert!
I continued to shout!
Then a four legger picked up a big stick and swung it at the limb.
The stick was an incredible creation.
There were two sticks. They were connected with a bunch of other sticks. And the tall sticks were so tall they reached from the limb to the ground.
And everything was shiny…
What happened is mysterious.
I did not see it occur.
There were shiny sticks to stare at.
There was a thud.
The four legger was on the ground.
Was it blinded by the shiny sticks and fell?
Did it make a play for my desert and miss?
Did it finally listen to my wisdom and just go away?
None of this matters. Especially once I eat the heart of the chickadee chick.
Awwwww… Does it make you sad that I kill and eat babies?
I’m a crow. I eat things that are smaller than me. It’s what I do. It’s what we crows like to do. We’re neither bad nor good. We’re just crows.
Get over yourself.