A Murder of Crows
Ominous warning in the Portland skies?
Every evening at dusk, the sky over my Portland neighborhood darkens. First you see what looks at a distance like fresh grindings of black pepper swimming atop a bowl of vichysoisse. As the specks get closer, their conversations get louder. Then you realize they’re coming over the horizon in an endless stream from both the west and the north, and heading in the general direction of east and south, to who knows where.
Unlike a murmuration of starlings, whose flight patterns are a miraculous dance of silent beauty (you MUST watch this), murders of crows fly every which way, cawing raucously, stopping downtown near me for a bathroom break. They land by the thousands in the treetops and on the telephone wires.
They also manage to distribute white poop on every surface beneath their resting spots, with a casual artistry that would make Jackson Pollock jealous.
While I was walking to the store last night my daughter called and was amazed by how well she could hear the racket. “You know, crows are very smart and can recognize and remember individual people,” she said. “You want to get on their good side.”
“Sure,” I said, looking up into the trees, where they roosted like noisy black fruits against the sky. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“They appreciate peanuts. Get a bag and feed them.”
“Like about a hundred pounds of peanuts? And how would they even notice that it was me who fed them? It’s almost dark.”
“I read somewhere that they talk amongst themselves. They’ll tell each other that you’re a good guy.”
“I’m not sticking around with peanuts long enough to convince any of them to love me. It’s cold.”
However, on my way home I observed that the City could use a murder of crows to obsolete many No Parking signs. No one whose car is not already white wants to park under their favorite roosts.
Do you remember Alfred Hitchcock’s 1963 horror movie, The Birds? It’s about murderous attacks on people by crows and seagulls. I hate getting scared, so I haven’t seen a horror movie since. And if I could escape another Trump reign of horrors, I would. I’d even consider bribing a murder of murderous crows (with all the peanuts they could eat and still fly) to descend on the White House and do their thing.
Tomorrow is the national holiday honoring the great Martin Luther King Jr. I’ve heard tell something else is going on in Washington DC. but I will not be watching. My friend Emily Grosvenor shares her party planning tips for the Greatest All Best Inauguration Day Ever. As for me, I’ll be getting out my bin of random LEGO and spend the afternoon making weird contraptions.
Because I have so much to say about the shit show that commences tomorrow I don’t even know where to start, so I’ll spare us all and just cut to my favorite feature:
PUT YOURSELF IN THE WAY OF BEAUTY
Dry arrangement from fallen twigs and a nearby bush with blue berries:
And some wisdom from Valerie Kaur, founder of the Revolutionary Love Project:
I hope you will leave a comment—let me know what you’re doing to maintain your sanity and optimism. I always respond, even if it takes a day.
The only way others get to enjoy Alive! with Joy is if folks like you share it. So feel free to do so. Subscriptions are free.
P.S. Did you know I wrote a book? Yes, I did.
It’s called The Cherry Pie Paradox: The Surprising Path to Diet Freedom
The Cherry Pie Paradox: The Surprising Path to Diet Freedom is about Thin Within, the intuitive eating process I created back in 1975—two full decades before “intuitive eating” came on the scene. The book walks you thru the experiential process of getting more in touch with food, your hunger, the pleasure of eating and thinking of yourself as a “fat” person. Both the process and the book are actually more fun than you might expect. And it works; you’ll never diet again.
Well written & greatly appreciated. I’ve been driving on the freeways around town frequently at 4:00pm-ish lately and have noticed the murder(s). This evening they were flying onto the top of a building in the Lloyd district, which made me go huh and wonder about all the poop. I like crows. They are smart. I read once, probably not in a peer-reviewed scientific article, that we get one as a spirit guide when we die.
My story is a bit different. During the course of my career, i was a talk show host for Nashville's WLAC radio. There I met the front desk person who happened to be black. She was fabulous in her job but was worth so much more than the position she was in. Years later, I was working in the Governor's Film and Television Commission and we needed some bright and hardworking help. My short list had ONE name on it: my friend, Gisela. Not because she was black, but because she was amazing!! Some in the administration complimented me on the hire as a nod to diversity. Little did they know that I believed I had hired the best person the radio station had on the payroll.