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 |   Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
| I have always liked crows. I don't trust them, but I do like them. I like those videos of crows sliding down a snowy roof and then doing it again and again just for fun. I like that they take time out of standing over carrion in the road and daring the cars to run them down to just relax and engage in some childish recreation. And this is, of course, because they are essentially children. I have always thought of them as being like perpetual adolescents. A crow is a bit of a bully amongst other birds, after all. A crow isn't afraid of your car, he is afraid of other crows seizing on his lucky find of roadkill. He doesn't step aside until the last minute to show you he's not afraid of you,but he doesn't go far because he doesn't want to share. Big Bird shares. Crows don't. And they hang out at the mall. Typical teenagers. But I just read that a crow is the intellectual equal of a seven-year-old human. That sounds great until you think about flocks of seven- year-old children flying over your head, pooing on you and then caw-cawing about it (let's face it, potty humor is big with seven-year-olds). Seven-year-old children who can remember your face if you make an enemy of them, and are equipped with a pointy beak to poke your eyes out. Maybe I don't really like crows, after all. But don't tell them that. |
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