Eating Crow

The commotion outside started when I was on the phone. 

I had the impression of turkeys sounding off and a cacophony of crows. 

When my conversation ended, I looked out the windows to determine the cause of the ruckus. 

It wasn't hard to find. 

The turkeys had fled, and not far off, a hawk was on the ground with a crow pinned under him. 

A murder of crows perched in the trees overhead 

and swooped down toward the hawk and their downed brother, 

trying to distract the aggressor from his victim. 

It looked bad for the crow.

At first I saw no signs of life from the form on the bottom of the heap, 

but then, suddenly, a struggle ensued. 

There was  a jumble of flapping wings and feathers with the hawk all the while on top. 

From the sound of it, they had been at this for a while. 

I know hawks are beautiful, and crows are, well, crows, but in the middle of the fight, 

strangely, I found myself rooting for the crow. 

There's something about the underdog.

As I watched, caught up in the natural drama in front of me, there was a lull in their exertion, 

both of them laying still, like a short stack of pancakes at Cookies' Restaurant. 

And then, amazingly, the crow struggled free and flew away.

It may have been my imagination, but I thought the hawk looked a bit chagrinned, 

glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. 

Then he shook himself, raised his wings, and sailed off over the trees.

It's quite possible, I suppose, that this fight was not about a meal at all, but just a brawl, 

the hawk teaching the crow a lesson. 

After all, nobody really wants to eat crow.

Linking with Weekly Top Shot
Wild Bird Wednesday
and Saturday's Critters

Hunger

Click on any photo for a larger view.

After waiting 'til March last winter for a decent snow,

we got an early start this year.

Sleet came down most of the day Thursday,

covering the ground with tiny styrofoam like pellets,

and Friday's snow piled on top.

When the thermometer headed down, 

we found our appetites sitting on the high side of the teeter-totter.  

We weren't alone.  

The corn and sunflower seeds we feed the creatures 

disappeared almost as fast as we could toss them out.

Blue jays wore their heads on backwards...

and Cardinals perched near the feeders like Christmas ornaments,

waiting for their number to come up.

Fox sparrows thought nothing of the cold, knocking the snow out of their way with swift kicks.

The crows were emboldened to come close to feed, even perching on the deck.

Barley's appetite stays at its peak year round...

but his energy soars when the snow comes.

While all the creatures outdoors have voracious appetites,

so do we.

Pass the popcorn, please.





Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday
and Saturday's Critters

Silver Linings

The winter weather that crippled much of the country last week skated through here with barely a whisper, leaving behind less than 1/2 inch of precipitation, in the form of rain and freezing rain, followed by sleet and snow. 

Still, it's all we've had this year.

 It was enough to create some silver magic in the hollow..

...and bring our favorite visitors clustering around for a handout.  

There was something for everyone.

This cardinal thought he was quite dapper, 

but he didn't know he had a sunflower seed hull on his beak.

How embarrassing!

There were even cat brier berries for the bluebird.  Yum!

If any of you want to truck some of your excess snow down to the Ozarks,

there's a photographer here who would love to take it off your hands.





Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

The first photo is wearing Kim Klassen's wonderful texture, 1402

Crows

In the early sunlight, a few glittering snowflakes danced on the the wind, unwilling to take off their ballet slippers and settle down on the ground.  On the deck, birds set off little puffs of snow as they hopped around gathering scraps of food.  The crows, emboldened by their hunger, made a move on the bird feeder.