Cacophony of Crows

Stave. The word I was thinking of was stave.

The crow was stuck between the staves of the fence across the street. But I didn’t know this yet.

I was taking out the trash when I heard our local crows in an uproar. They were across the street over my neighbor Marion’s house. I thought a cat might be involved, and sure enough, a cat, my cat, was prowling under the fence. His black and white coat standing out against the green privet.

I was crossing the street in my socks at the same time my neighbor, and her visiting family burst out the front door to see what the ruckus was about. I was trying to get to the cat first, but Marion reached him and picked him up. He is not fond of being held, and scratched her arm. At 98, her skin is thin, and I winced at the red line on her arm.

From their porch, the crows plight was easy to see, he couldn’t get out from between the fence posts. Marion’s son hustled over and pushed the crow’s back to release him from his trap. He fluttered to the ground, unable to fly very well. The crow chorus on the roof and the lines overhead kept up their cacophony, even though the cat had run home.

The injured crow fluttered/walked to a hedge at the far back corner of the yard, away from us all. We followed part way, but realizing we were part of the problem, left him alone in the care of his crow family.

We all relayed stories about the cleverness of crows, but we did not know how this particular one got stuck in the fence. Later, I wished that I had been the one to free the crow and touch his black feathered back.

Painting : Witness Tree