As I looked around I saw that I was being regarded by a Turkey vulture (Cathartes aura) with what appeared to be dignified indifference.

I returned to the spot where I first heard the ruckus. The crows had begun flying about again, though this time over a larger area while still making a lot of noise. There were more of them, too. Then most of them disappeared, though I could still hear them. Finding an open area, I found them roosting in a tree at the top of the ridge I had walked off of just before all of the excitement. I watched for a while as the crows flew out and about then returned to the tree, calling out their harsh cries. After a while, there were only a handful still in the tree, mostly silent. I packed up my sketch gear as the last of the crows dispersed.
I really love the third sketch, it's almost a book illustration. A good story too, a crime tale!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post, Debbie. I'm so moved by your telling of it. And I agree, that third sketch is very special.
ReplyDeleteI wrote a post last year about magpies grieving, they also gather, all a flap and walk around the lifeless body with raucous calls. It seemed the calls brought more and more Magpies till the tree was filled. I took photos from across the street but did not realize till later that there was a Hawk under the tree feeding. It seemed as if the Magpies kept coming back to pay their respects to the fallen one. Hugs!
ReplyDeleteI really like this, too, Debbie. You're as good a writer as you are an artist.
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