Crow

Light spreads into the night

First movement

Swooping from the highest crown

Black shiny crow

Floats nonchalantly to ground

Stretches wings

Lands with a bounce

Moves into a walk

Tilts its head to have look

Arrogant creature

Taint of the dark

What’s there to eat

In Milton Park?

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n.b. Mornings are noticeably getter lighter now, but the weather is too cool for sparrows, or blackbirds to announce the dawn. The first bird call this morning was a three-part drawn out caw of a crow. A bird happy to move in the early light of day before shadows form.

Crows are jostling for nesting positions in tree tops now. Despite the incoming series of storms that disrupt their building, crows are busy collecting twigs to weave nests before tree foliage arrives. Fascinating.

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CLP 13/02/2020

On August XVII

Grass turned to hay bales

Turf open again to sky

Crows stalk the stubble

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n.b. The corvids leave the pasture in flower to other creatures, but as soon as the ground is clear they descend, spread themselves out, (respecting each others’ personal space), and start grubbing about searching for leather jackets and other insect larvae; anything tasty that just a few days prior was happy under the cover of the grasses.

CLP 27/08/2019

Crow

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Aloft on a waft

To drop mollusc on shingle

Did gulls teach or learn?

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n.b. It is fascinating to watch gulls and crows rise 3 or 4 metres on the breeze with the intention of dropping a shelled shore-dweller onto the pebbled beach repeatedly until the shell cracks open and the meaty interior is accessible. When I mentioned this to my step-father, Frank Hawes, I had presumed the seabirds got the idea first. He said, “Maybe the gulls copied the crows.”

CLP 03/01/2019

Autumn Equinox

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It, whatever it was

Wasn’t anymore

There was nothing left

Everything was dead-headed.

Shadows stretching from bare limbs of beech

Felt into the deepest ruts

To pour chilled darkness into once warm ploughed furrows.

Free falling crows played tag in the cool draughts of the season’s turn

Mimicking loosed leaves

With twisting turns and spinning dance

Turbulant rags

Blackened with tar

Making mawkish calls

That echoed off the naked wood

Each cry

Wrung from a heart

Where summer’s day was givingĀ way to winter’s night.

CLP 22/09/2018