This last year our side yard seems to be
a crows landing field. There are anywhere
from eight to twenty at a time. I am ambivalent
about crows. Years back when we were living in
Independence, Missouri, a large crow, unusually
large, showed up one afternoon while I had the
two children down for a nap. It was on the shed
right outside of their bedroom window.
It must have been hit by a car or something.
It’s large wing was flapped out from it’s body.
Our oldest was about three years old and he was
fascinated by it. I was horrified by it.
The shed set so close to the house and butted
up against the window to the children’s room.
If we were outside it would caw and scritch around
on the roof of the metal shed. Occasionally it tried out
it’s broke or bent wing, and would do a little free-fall,
then hop around the patio. At night I imagined this crow
beaking it’s way through the window to drag away my
children. Hubby kept telling me it was harmless.
I was elated the day it healed up and took flight.
