Saturday, February 14, 2015

Crow with Valentine

Thing a Day is an online creativity group that happens in February.  One year I chose crows and pomegranates as my themes for the work I'd do and came up with little paintings each day.  On Valentine's Day I'd been busy and shortly before I went to bed, I remembered that I hadn't made anything.  I grabbed some paint and paper and made a quick crow, flying home to her sweetie with a little pretty to line the nest.

I like this crow.  I like that it feels like my life sometimes - that I am flying through turbulence and trying to keep up with the small honoring that each day deserves.  No perfection here.  But a gift.

I hope you find a way to celebrate all the loves of your life, including yourself; you can make it little thing.  Happy Valentine's Day!

For a different Valentine treat, you can see this older post.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

poetry and crows 2

Walking the first snowfall
 we dream drifted past the pond;
ducks edged away
 from  thin icy rims.

This morning
in a brittle dawn,
only reflections of sun fetching
swim across the gleaming

Friday, February 6, 2015

poetry and crows 1

                                                          A snow speckled
                                                        blossoms with crows
                                                                in the gray
                                                             morning light.

We are expecting more snow tomorrow.  Our crow friends come early looking for the food that we sometimes have for them.  When it's minus 8 degrees, you wonder how they survive these days.  One of the things that impresses me the most is how they work as a community.  This morning a single crow landed in the Norway spruce and eyed the cut up hot dogs lying on the crust of snow.  It made the call that seems to say, come and get it.  And then it sat there watching the food, not flying down to touch it.  It must be hungry - they burn calories so quickly in this cold.  But it wouldn't go after  it until the other crows arrived.  They are very skittish when there is food left for them - one or more are always keeping a watch for danger.

Thursday, February 5, 2015

winter crows

I love crows.  I love ravens, too, but we don't have as many of them here - so crows get more of my attention. 
For over 30 years I've felt companioned by them.  What endears them to me is their gorgeous solid blackness, almost negative space at times, their lustiness, their humor, their total energy.

  When I was a kid in Colorado we had their cousins, magpies, who caught my eye.  And those darned birds loved to torment our German Shepherd, Champ.  He'd be minding his own business in our back yard, and a couple of them would come sit on the clothesline just out of reach.  They'd caw and buzz by him and when he jumped at them, they'd quickly scoot just out of reach.  They seemed to find it to be a great past time.

I don't know that I paid much mind to crows until the late 70's or early 80's when I started running. My daily run began before dawn in most seasons.  I ran in all kinds of weather.  And the crows would always be there. 

I lived near Vassar campus and would head toward a path through the woods.  Crows would be flying overhead, east with me, as I ran down the street and into the trees.  They would come by in twos and threes, sometimes more, sometimes a lonely straggler.  But they seemed to want to fly toward the light.  In the evening, I noticed they'd head west toward the river - a reversal of their earlier travels.  On a windy day, when I'd be grumbling in my head, I'd notice that they were playing on currents or shouldering through a strong wind - and I'd feel cheered.  I ran for many years There was never a love of running.  My next favorite part of it was the shower afterward.  My favorite part was the companionship of crows.

I'll share some poems and paintings that have been inspired by this friendship in later blogs.  In the meantime, enjoy these wonderful birds when they come your way!  And feel free to tell my your stories - I bet we all have them.