The two
wedgies were circling above, specks in the sky. I was sitting cross legged on
an open paddock and called to one, the male. He slowly circled down to rest on
my arm, looked me clearly in the eyes and kissed my forehead. I lifted him into
flight to join his partner in the sky
Crows are
truth tellers
Trish had lost her boy in the bush. A crow called her, and repeatedly flew a short distance ahead of her, calling all the way, until it led her to him.
Trish had lost her boy in the bush. A crow called her, and repeatedly flew a short distance ahead of her, calling all the way, until it led her to him.
Essa was a crow queen.
We lived in a quiet place with bush opposite where a family of crows lived.
Each year the new young crows would fly to our house, sit on the brick chimney and call down. I thought they liked hearing their voice reverberating down the chimney, practicing to be crows. But they had been told by their elders that if they went across the road to that pile of bricks, and called, they would hear their queen.
Essa would lie on her back in the lounge room, head and shoulders in the open fireplace, and call softly back to them.
A year after she left i noticed the new crows weren't coming to call, at least when i was home. I wondered why. I wondered if they knew she was in the sky with them.
A few minutes later a crow called at the front door. I opened the door, an adult crow was on the gutter above and adjacent to the door, almost within arms’ reach. Had never seen one there before. Or since.
He turned his head to me and said, 'yes she's safe in the sky with us'. Then he flew away.
It's a few years now and they still don't come. They know she doesn't live here anymore. Crows are truth tellers.
We lived in a quiet place with bush opposite where a family of crows lived.
Each year the new young crows would fly to our house, sit on the brick chimney and call down. I thought they liked hearing their voice reverberating down the chimney, practicing to be crows. But they had been told by their elders that if they went across the road to that pile of bricks, and called, they would hear their queen.
Essa would lie on her back in the lounge room, head and shoulders in the open fireplace, and call softly back to them.
A year after she left i noticed the new crows weren't coming to call, at least when i was home. I wondered why. I wondered if they knew she was in the sky with them.
A few minutes later a crow called at the front door. I opened the door, an adult crow was on the gutter above and adjacent to the door, almost within arms’ reach. Had never seen one there before. Or since.
He turned his head to me and said, 'yes she's safe in the sky with us'. Then he flew away.
It's a few years now and they still don't come. They know she doesn't live here anymore. Crows are truth tellers.
Essa was
in the biosphere national park with a twitching group.
She knew every bird by sight and sound. Would call them and they would come to her. At tea break twitchers were comparing lists, excitedly saying they'd heard a noisy scrub bird or a ground parrot, or some other scarce bird. Essa would apologise saying "sorry, that was me"
She knew every bird by sight and sound. Would call them and they would come to her. At tea break twitchers were comparing lists, excitedly saying they'd heard a noisy scrub bird or a ground parrot, or some other scarce bird. Essa would apologise saying "sorry, that was me"
With magpies fossicking in the front yard she would give their autumn call and
they would look at her askance. .. who's this crazy magpie giving an autumn
call in the middle of winter.
I'd banned her from giving female mating calls. I'd seen another twitcher call a mopoke owl and it sat in a tree all night calling to his prospective mate who was in a tent below. It wasn't fair.
I'd banned her from giving female mating calls. I'd seen another twitcher call a mopoke owl and it sat in a tree all night calling to his prospective mate who was in a tent below. It wasn't fair.
Ah, I get it - KY is your new name, and just as what happened to J.K. I have spilt the beans. Jelly!
ReplyDeleteTom! Stop it :-)
ReplyDeleteThoughtful and thought provoking Ky.
ReplyDeleteLove it. So rich in ecopsychology. Thanks.
ReplyDelete