Crows speak to me.

I enjoyed a fraternal greeting with crows this morning; an earnest discussion of great import.

I had tossed out some peanuts for the squirrels, and a crow approached. I watched it for a while. It cocked it’s head at me and cawed.

I responded.

It cawed a three-caw pattern.

I repeated.

I threw a peanut at it. It looked it it, looked at me and hopped toward it.

I waited. Quietly. It approached, pecked, snapped it up then flew away.

I waited and cawed and the caws were echoed by three distant birds. We held unseen discourse for a few moments, and suddenly, drifting sideways above me were two crows, silent. Peanut sharks of the sky.

I cawed a three-caw. They responded.

I cawed a three-caw. They responded.

I cawed a three-caw. One responded with a series which I emulated. The first landed on a tree. We cawed at each other a few moments, as though we understood each other.

For each caw came a peanut.

I went back in and though the window I watched the feathered motorcycle club approach and feed on my peanuts.

What have I done?

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4 thoughts on “Crows speak to me.

  1. Tarnished says:

    You were obviously a crow in your last life, and they recognize you as one of them.

    Or, perhaps more likely to your worldview, you were talking to them in a very primitive way. I have found a number of sounds that…if I emulate them well enough…my cockatiel and parakeets will actually perform various actions like flying to me or going to their food dish. And all I’ve done is copy the noises they originally made while doing these things!

    People say that animals don’t have language…pshaw.

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