|American Crow by John James Audubon|
Some days call for crows, their diabolical hop across the street, their strident harping at one another. The other day I could swear two of them, hanging at the end of the neighbor's driveway, were arguing. I thought I heard a derisory remark about the new Georgia gun law from the smart one, the one who sits up in the tree all day long, translating to the others. The others are always bewildered, screaming about this house or that, about the cat who looks more like a dog at the corner. The others are paranoid, feel threatened, exercise their liberties by stealing nuts from the old man in the gray house's tree, dash them onto the pavement, stoop down and pick at the pieces, like bits of brain. The smart one had enough at one point, it seemed to me. He flew down more like a bat out of hell, driving the others apart with his scream.