Counting Crows

One crow for sorrow,
Two crows for joy,
Three crows for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five crows for silver,
Six crows for gold,
Seven crows for a secret never to be told.

Looked for someone to attribute this quote to, but it seems to be just one of those things you learn as a kid.

We have a family of five crows that hang out in our yard all day yelling at each other.

They crack me up; have you ever watched a crow walk? It’s hilarious. I just want to catch them and dress them up in little outfits. With pocket watches. And maybe false mustaches.

Sometimes they hop up on the felled tree trunk where Maverick’s homemade squirrel feeder is secured and peck at the ear of corn; one crow at a time, the others lined up single file behind him. Crows wait their turn.

Crows are apparently very intelligent; I’ve seen allegations that they can count, have a long memory, and teach each other how to use tools. I can attest to the fact that they are impossible to sneak up on, and that they are somehow aware of my presence here in the house. If I approach a window, there’s a “caw, caw” and off they all go.

My kingdom for a telephoto lens. And a camera to attach it to.

This picture was taken by painstakingly propping the camera up on an outside window ledge, connecting the camera to the laptop, and triggering the shutter remotely. I am not even kidding.

Of course, now that I’ve said that, I’m sure I’ll be flooded with emails with pictures of crows attached and testimonials to how easy it was to photograph them. And all that proves, in my mind, is that my crows are smarter than yours.