161 / 365 – Crows

FRED VANEK

There’s a little patch of grass out my window. I looked up and there’s a crow walking across the grass there. He takes these big steps and his head bobs back and forth as he walks. I think it’s a he. He’s looking around. I wonder what he’s doing.

Then a second crow swoops down from the oak tree growing up at the edge of the grass. Lands right next to the other one, and now the two of them are marching across the grass together, still looking around. I don’t hear a sound. They look like they’re doing something together, marching in unison, but they don’t gesture or make a sound so I don’t know how they would be. They keep marching across the grass until they’re out of sight.

Sometimes I see these things, framed in my little window, and I wonder. I’ve never sat by a window, since I was a boy and I had to stay indoors for sabbath. I think how things like this have been going on for years while I’ve been working, unaware. Crows filling the trees, and then flying down marching across the grass, looking for whatever it is that crows want. Life is busy and going on all around and I wouldn’t see it if I didn’t have it framed in this little window.

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