avatarUlf Wolf

Summary

The author describes an encounter with a crow that, unlike others, does not perceive the author as a threat and allows them to pass closely, gifting the author a sense of pride and connection.

Abstract

The author reflects on the behavior of crows, particularly one crow that did not fly away despite the author's proximity. This unusual interaction, where the crow remained perched as the author passed by, evoked a profound sense of pride and affection within the author. The author contrasts this experience with the typical wariness of crows, expressing a desire to befriend these birds and wishing to understand their perspective. The crow's trust in the author's harmlessness is seen as a moment of mutual recognition and perhaps even affection, leaving the author feeling confirmed and comforted, and reciprocating the sentiment.

Opinions

  • The author feels slighted when crows perceive them as a threat and fly away.
  • There is a desire to be close to crows, to touch and feed them, indicating a fascination and fondness for the birds.
  • The author believes they appear non-threatening to their own species and is puzzled by the crows' typical reaction to humans.
  • The crow that did not fly away is seen as special and discerning, recognizing the author's harmlessness.
  • The author values the moment of proximity and stillness with the crow, interpreting it as a sign of acceptance and possibly affection.
  • The author expresses a wish to understand the world from the crow's perspective, showing a deep curiosity and respect for the bird's intelligence and perception.

Crow Nearness

And a Sense of Pride

Image by Author

The crow within arm’s length who does not flee me gifts me a sense of pride

I’ve covered the subject of brave crows before, but it bears re-covering.

I take a smidgen of affront every time a nearby crow perceives me as a threat and takes to the air. I mean it no harm. None. In fact, I would love to gently stroke its inky feathers and perhaps feed it some peanuts (they love them).

And, really, I believe I look like a nice guy, not in the least threatening; at least not to my own species.

Not so to most crows, though, who (as a species) seem to adjudicate that ten feet is about as close as safety shall allow. Any closer and out come the wings, flap, flap, flapping away another ten or so feet — or further if they’re sure I don’t carry any food.

But then there’s the one who while I cannot tell them apart can tell us apart. He (or she) knows I am of no danger, and simply does not leave.

This crow was perched on the ocean-hugging street’s guard rail as I approached. Ten feet, eight, six, four, three, two, one and now I passed him, two feet to my left and looking up at me with those two dark pinhole wells who I would love to know what they see and how they see it. And now I’ve passed him (or her) and I’m so very, very happy that he (or she) did not take to the air.

Confirmed. Comforted. Maybe even loved.

I loved it right back.

© Wolfstuff

Crow
Brave
Unafraid
Familiar
Wolfku Musing
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