The Crow

There's a crow who lives in the tree next to our house. Dana Crow. He comes and goes but I see him daily. He feels somewhat like a pet because his dwelling is part of ours. Some days he hops around on the ground in search of food, his black shiny feathers reflecting morning sun. Crow Business. Other days he has some unknown particle in his sharp beak and he hides it in his tree, saving it for future use. Crow Bank. I read once that crows were extremely territorial and smart. He seems to be both. When we came home Saturday, there was a tiny mutilated baby bird head on the stairs leading to our front door. Crow Dominance. Trash days are his favorite. He and his buddies travel the cans, pillaging the stuffed and overflowing ones for anything they can find. Crow entertainment. By the time the truck comes to purge the smelly cans of their waste, the crow party has littered the streets, pieces of plastic trash bags, paper cups, empty egg cartons and the such. Crow tracks. I remember when Aidan was in Kindergarten, the children were required to bring their lunches not in paper sacks but hard lunch boxes because the crows were notorious for silently pecking through to the glorious treasures of peanut butter and jelly and Doritos not in their original foil but lovingly packed by a five year old mother's loving hands in a baggie to save money and unnecessary calories. Crow Snack. Last year I waited for Aidan after school in my car near some trees in the parking lot. The crows conversed loudly each and every day. Their different calls and cahoots meant something important to crows, the language I do not know.They usually sounded bossy. Crow talk. When I die, I wand to come back as a Crow. Crow reincarnation.