Tuesday, April 26, 2011

What the crow missed by dying today

Coming back from his regular pre-dawn walk the day after Easter, the hubby spied a sidewalk spectacle: a moribund crow with an equally dead crayfish still firmly clamped in its beak. Hubby tried to get me to go with him to photograph the sorry sight, but I convinced him he could do the job just as well. He came back with several shots, all good.


If you're like most people, your body goes through a predictable pattern when confronted with the unexpected sight of a dead body: recoil, look away, catch your breath, sneak another look. Then stare. The train wreck effect.


Then you try to make sense of what your senses are feeding you. Here's this being that once was and now isn't. In this case, there were two of them. 


Questions, questions. A duel to the death. Who died first, the crayfish or the crow? (Which came first, the chicken or the egg?)




How can I tell if this is a raven or a crow? Part of me hoped it was a raven so I could quote Edgar Allan Poe: "Quoth the raven: 'Nevermore.' " I had to look it up. Apparently, the bill on a crow curves downward. This must be a raven. It oozes dignity in death. And a little creepiness for good measure. 


How long could this bird have lived if it had lived its natural span? My online source records a raven that lived 40 years, although 10-15 years is more common.


This raven's eyes, shuttered now, had seen a few things in its time. For the rest of the day I took more than a passing interest in the sights still available to my eyes.


This blood-red bougainvillea clambers up a trellis outside the local Target store. Had the raven seen it, or was it always preoccupied with pursuing prey and evading predators?


I have a particular fondness for bougainvillea because my father grew them in an array of colors when we lived on an air force base in the Philippines. They're so sensitive to frost, which is why I haven't attempted to replicate Dad's garden. How does Target's landscaper manage to keep this healthy specimen alive?



In the wildflower patch that reseeded itself behind my house, the California poppies, calendula and other blooms are a riot of color. The wind was blowing full blast when I took the photos, so these were among the few without blur.




When the Mexican primroses are spent, I'll have to weedwhack the entire thatch to the ground. It seems a savage way to repay their valiant effort, but they must make way for new growth. I'm not sure this philosophy applies to the raven, though. Did the rest of the ravens benefit from his exit? (And oh! did you know the poetic term for a flock of ravens is a "murder of ravens"? Random fact.)




The johnny jump-ups had a near-death experience they lived to tell about. It seems the hubby went up on the roof to dismantle the anachronistic TV antenna. Rather than lower the entire assemblage to the ground, he flung it off the roof. It landed with a satisfying (to him) crash, barely missing their little purple and yellow heads. Here, they've settled down from asking each other "What just happened?"


I had no idea TV antennas could be so salvageable. Those aluminum rods are pliable enough to refashion into a trellis for this season's morning glories. Heaven-sent supplies! Or at least hubby-sent. I've soaked the seeds to prepare them for planting.




On our sunset stroll, the hubby and I came across the spot where the raven lay in state. It seems his passing did not go unmarked.




We ended the day as we began it: marking life, death, and everything necessary in between.




20 comments:

  1. Poor crow...

    I feed a crow in my back yard. He is very dignified and polite.

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  2. Tuxedoes remind me of crows. They remind me of the Brits, too. Both are dignified and polite.

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  3. I love Edgar Allan Poe. I'm reading his complete and unabridged works -- when I can drag myself away from daily distractions. The deaths of the raven and crayfish are sad, but eventually unavoidable. What we do in response to loss can be tragic -- or in this case -- beautiful.

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  4. I like the way this post meandered, on its own morning stroll. It made my mind wander and wonder too, about the meaning of life, and death; and about words that contain raven: craven, graven, ravenous; and expressions like "eating crow." Nevermore will I be dismissive of dead birds.

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  5. I know lots of crow stories, including how they are the only bird that can recognize individual human faces and how they grieve their dead. I love your writing and will become a follower!

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  6. There is so much poesy in this post. Suffice it to say...I love it! I wonder how the raven died? And yes, there is so much dignity in how it looked. I can't end this comment without commenting on the bougainvillea. Growing up in the Phils, we had one as well at the front of our house and I remember we had a love-hate relationship with it....lovely flowers but could get out of control at times. I will, however, think of it with much sentimentality for all my life.

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  7. P.S. I just read your comment above on tuxedos, crows and Brits....hahahahhaa! (ex-bf is Brit so I'd have to agree, LOL!)

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  8. Kenya, have you tried listening to Edgar Allan Poe's works read on CD? I think on my next trip to the library I'll look for one. His rhythm is so mesmerizing. Early rapper, don't you think? And yes, much wisdom in what you said about how we respond to tragedy.

    Locke, you were dismissive of dead birds? I am appalled! ; ) I looked up where "eating crow" originated and it does have something to do with someone being forced to eat one. Not an acquired taste. "Four and twenty black birds baked in a pie." But how in the world did the birds sing?

    Page, hello, welcome! Thanks so much for visiting and following (and for your compliment on the etsy forum.) Indeed, I had read about crows' ability to recognize particular faces. Didn't know they grieve. If Pam Anderson's video is true, chickens are intelligent like that, too. I look forward to a heaven where we commune with the animals.

    Joy, see, we have so much intersection in our memories! Except for the Brit bf, hahaha! Although now I'm a little pensive about having missed out on that. Shhh, don't tell the hubby. I did date a Brit-born east Indian before I married the hubby. A pilot. Swarthy and handsome. Ok, I'll stop.

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  9. The artist formerly known as MC Poe-Poe... that has a ring to it. ;D I've never listened to any of his audiobooks. But, I just might have to join you at the library. :) In the meantime, I've given your blog an award.

    http://kenyadwilliamson.blogspot.com/p/my-awards.html

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  10. Oh golly! Thanks so much, Kenya! I popped over just now to read your post.

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  11. Beautiful post about Raven and Being Present in One's Life. Love the post, love the title and the Photos are Gorgeous! Great Blog too!!
    :) Kristin

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  12. Hi, Kristin! Welcome to the community. Yessss, being present in one's life is exactly the message here. And now I'm channeling Sally Field: "You get me. You really get me." = ) Thank you!

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  13. "Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." - will I try a crawfish again.

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  14. John B, coming from a fisherman, I'll trust you on that one ; )

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  15. Nothing makes you think about what life means more than death. Beautiful post :)

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  16. Wow, that is certainly a very strange sight - definitely makes you wonder how it happened!! And interesting, I guess I had always thought I crow and a raven were the same thing. Learn something new everyday! :D

    Btw, thanks for your comment on my blog - I responded on there because I'd love to cover your question in a future post, but I wasn't sure exactly which was your question - are talking about how to make pages within a blog (like "About Me", "FAQ", etc) or how to make an entirely separate website (like the one I was showing in my post)?

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  17. Thanks for the clarification! I put up a post explaining how to make those pages. :)

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  18. superb narrative, cookie. the pictures are the punctuation marks to the story. good job!

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  19. i love the pictures, scrollwork. thanks also for checking out my blog. hope you keep visiting...

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