For years and years a massive Murder of Crows used to fly over my house on their way to their nightly roost. They would fly across the harbour, and head for a copse of trees at a university a few miles away. They would often (or some of them) alight in a huge tree two houses down the street. There could be two hundred, and they would fill the tree, cawing and rustling and flying around. Then, in twenty minutes or so, they would be on their way.
Alas, the university cut down that copse of trees for the construction of some buildings. The crows no longer make their journey. I do not know where they now roost.
However, one recent morning, I saw a crow at The Crow Tree.
It hovered and hovered and hovered and hovered over The Crow Tree. I rarely ever see crows hover. Then it grabbed right on to the tallest piece of a branch (already denuded of leaves) and held on.
It swayed and swayed and swayed back and forth in the wind, sometimes using its wings for balance. It stayed so long that I was able to get my binoculars to watch (and totally confirm it was a crow). It was.
The crow put me in mind of a cowboy attempting to stay on the back of a bucking horse. Whoo-heee!! I imagined it saying.
All told, it clung to the branch for a minute. Then it let go, flew up, and away.
I had not seen a crow on The Crow Tree for over a year. There are still local crows, in twos and tens, on the ground and in the trees. But not the massive flock that would (I assume) take a wee rest during their evening passage. I do miss their passage from east to west, spooky though it was.
DE
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