The caws and croaks and creaks and sprinkling in of a myriad of sounds, that surround the crow or crows or crowded black birds or murder of crows, can be one of a thousand birds in the swept-in numbers of these birds, or no doubt left, to two.
They are a group of warm blooded vertebrates characterised by black feather, toothless beaked jaws, the laying of hard shelled eggs, a high metabolic rate, a four chambered heart, and a strong yet lightweight skeleton, with a communication that cannot be compared; with their calls, and feelings being splashed about in over two hundred fifty ways.
Bring up their beaks, their wings, their feet and legs and the fact that they can fly, and best or most of all see, and look and make the other birds reel, make their mate for life, and leave him/her with that maniacal calling that makes the wonderment of every feeding, every night together, every constant moment of their life, wrapped in one another.
Life among the crows. It must be murder.
Ralph E Peck
Photo by Terri Jo Littau
Upon a Limb in Ellis County, Oklahoma, American Crows
Comments