A murder of crows


Yesterday afternoon an unusual event, around here that is, as I cleaned house. A scattered bleating of crows turned quickly to a sustained chorus. Both cats lept to attention, riveted, ears cocked: general quarters. Their watch drew me to the window, and the sight of dozens of crows gathering on nearby trees. The cacophony was remarkable, and when I slid open the window, deafening. Frigid air and bacchanale washed inward against me.

For a time more and more joined the party, til the winter branches flourished with a black spring, and the mad-inspiring refrain grew louder still, becoming like an iron wedge driven into the brain. When the very last had alighted, everyone fell silent – a leaden silence, the sound of loss.

I went back to chores after a few moments and when I returned to the window later, the branches were bare. The murder had gone off without so much as a whisper.

The cats had returned to their bunks, hoping either for undisturbed rest or another interruption.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s