I put the wrong date on the picture. It was done on 31 July. Spelling...dates....correctness eludes me. I believe this was actually the EDM challenge of the week - draw a truck. I wrote a short story right after my dog walk this morning. It knits right into the mood for this intense drawing day. I spent most of the day absorbed in this picture....tons of fun.
31 July 2008 A Murder of Crows and a Hawk
There is a lot of tension in the air this morning.
I awake with a jolt at 5:05. My head pounds as usual. The realization of exhaustion slams my consciousness again. But I need to move. I need to get up. I feel edgy.
I take my coffee out into the front porch and sit in the semi-dark. The wind is too high for an early prairie morning. It adds to the restlessness in the air, my restlessness.
The sun is rising over the horizon and painting a murderous orange red as it comes. Slowly it pulls itself higher. The trees rustle impatiently. The sky turns to a saturated vanilla and grey. I quit this place and get more coffee. It’s still pre-daylight really and too early to take the dog out for a walk but I need to move. I adjust and print a few pictures for my planned drawing this morning. Now I can go.
I need to be out with the wind. I need the tree rustling volume in surround sound around me. I need to move with the leaves.
The dog is strange today. She takes detours and does things she normally doesn’t do.
We hear the rapid and furious squawking of a crow. As we go down our silent route up the back lanes I see the crow. It’s chasing…what is that an owl? No it’s a hawk. A crow chasing a hawk in the semi-light. What is a hawk doing down here in the suburbs?
We get close. Now I see a roost shaking itself into action and becoming a murder of crows. I hope not literally. There are four of them, grouped two-by-two. Two are slowly calling out while sitting on a wire. Another two are at the gutter of a steeply pitched roof. The hawk is gone. Smart. There must be carrion somewhere around, likely in the gutter where the crows put it yesterday.
We make our way onto the road now. The wind. The wind. It soothes me with its action, swirling around my arms, cooling my pounding brow. In the distance I see two cats tensely poised. It is the type of stance which shows conflict between them.
As we approach they spill onto the road screaming and with fur flying literally. Off to the sides in the distance are three rabbits, like a border of silent statues watching. Strange. Very strange. I stamp my foot and lowly growl “Git. Git.” All that does is startle the dog. One cat glances edgily at me. Two steps more and they run in opposite directions.
The rabbits do not move. They rarely do when we pass by. I have trained my walking companion and myself to keep our energy low and whisper softly to them so we can enjoy their beauty.
We turn around and head home. The wind comes in gusts, the leaves tinkle and rustle and flow. As we go along I hear the crows. Now I see the hawk perched on the roof of this house, one foot up. How strange. A crow lands four feet away and its cry goes up in pitch and speed directed at the hawk. The hawk stares at him. The crow flaps its wings and jumps sideways two steps towards the hawk who flaps in return. They are both agitated but wanting to hold their ground. The crow now moves another hop with wings raised up threatening the hawk. The hawk flies off as the crow jumps backwards and watches. The prize must be valuable for all this to happen I think.
I think of the animal totems. Unusual bird activity….a sign of magic.
Now I see that lightly clouded skies have darkened into a smooth greyness. Perhaps a storm is coming in. I feel edgy and intense and enlivened. I feel part of the morning’s secrets.
We arrive home and I open every window I can to let all this seep in and envelope me. It’s going to be a great day. I can feel the magic.