Posted on by Phil Strawn

As The Crow Flies


Photo by Alfred Hitchcock

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
            Only this and nothing more.”
Edger Allan Poe

The bird population around the Cactus Patch has been growing by leaps and bounds. Our bird seed expenditure has doubled in the last month. Doves, Cardinals, Woodpeckers, Titmouse, Chickadees, House Finches, Bluejays, Blackbirds, Buntings, a squirrel, and now we have a family of Crows. They live in a large Cottonwood tree a few hundred yards towards Comanche Peak, our local mountain. I counted fifteen or so in their flock, which is also their family. Crows tend to stay close to cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents, and children. Our friends warn us when a Crow shows up it means a pending death in the family or at least bad ju-ju for our household. So far, everyone is intact, and as far as the bad luck, well we have had a few instances. I can’t make myself blame the Crows for bad manufacturing.

Two weeks ago, our over-the-range microwave bid us adieu, the oven signed out a few days later, then our hot tub died. Our neighbor said it was the Crows that caused our appliance meltdown. I refuse to believe it. Edger Allan Poe was a writer of weird stories and a few runs of bad luck. He also drank Abstinith and used opium, so, of course, he had conversations with a Raven, who wouldn’t. Poe gave the Crow, or the Raven a bad rap; it became a part of our American vernacular.

Crows are large bluish-black birds that eat bugs, my birdseed, and peanuts. The Squirrel and a Crow had a stare-down yesterday, and the Crow won the game. The nut breath exited without his usual peanuts. They are birds and don’t cook a witches’ brew back at their nest or make voodoo dolls out of garbage. They are quite a beautiful avian, and smarter than many people I know. I left a quarter on the fence by one of the bird feeders, the crow took it and returned a dime to the same spot. Who knows what he spent the fifteen cents on. I put a few more shiny trinkets near the feeder and the Crows took those; I’m waiting to see what they return. I could use a new pair of garden pruners.

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14 Replies to “As The Crow Flies”

    2. Yes, damn Grammarly word editor. It was a strong drink that produced hallucinations as well as a drunkardly high. Many of the future hipsters drank it like water and that seems to be why they painted such weird pictures. Poe was a regular user.

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      1. Yikes. And…um…yuck. I wouldn’t be able to partake in such a lifestyle. I learned in my teens that I couldn’t even tolerate pot. The THC or whatever made me want to go hide in a closet. While all my friends were high & raiding the fridge, I wanted it to stop. Weird body chemistry, I guess…

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  4. lol, crows are very smart. That whole bad luck thing is, of course, just superstition. I’m so glad I’m not superstitious, knock on wood.

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    1. They do go all out, in a weird Avian way. No need to dress up, they are already wearing mourning black. Makes one wonder how their weddings are celebrated? I like your blog, and sense of humor.

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