An evocative piece, Rob, especially when reading it follows a morning
cacawphony of crows on its not-so-determined or orchestrated return to
their daytime haunts from their roost in Kenmore. I hear it every
morning, usually from inside the house and sometimes, when the noise
seems focused in a particular area above the conifers, it prompts me
to go outside to see if I can locate the object of their mobbing -
occasionally I make it out there in time to watch a Red-tailed Hawk,
Bald Eagle, Sharp-shinned or Cooper's Hawk, or Barred Owl either
hunker into the cover of branches for awhile, or fly off with a swarm
of crows tenaciously following it until they are satisfied they have
ousted the problem.

Then, they fairly slowly round themselves up again, to continue
southward for their daytime obligations and shenanigans, with parcels
of them alighting in trees or ground in the neighborhoods that they
caw-l home. The morning movement over my block seems slower, more
scattered and less driven, but louder than the evening egress - I'd
say it lasts a good half-hour.

My favorite part of your story is your recognition of a "free-
spirited" crow - I imagine I am not the only one to identify with that
one!

Thanks for sharing your observations and words with us.


Barb Deihl

North Matthews Beach - NE Seattle

barbdeihl at comcast.net