more like a massacre

21 07 2004

at 5 this morning we were awakened by at least a thousand crows.


most of them, when they woke us up, were vying for position in the silver maple tree leaning over our house from the yard of the empty one next door.  they were cacophonous, contentious, uncountable.  if they had a message to deliver, it was too loud to pull out distinct strands of meaning.  which doesn’t mean i didn’t try.

we respond to early-morning abrasive intrusion in different ways, i suppose.  pdxstraycat peered at the dawn-dark tree for a few moments, closed the bedroom windows, & went back to sleep.  i grabbed a sweater & crawled out onto the roof to watch & listen as they acted out their own version of survivor, taunting one another, arguing about decisions, & deserting the tree alone or in groups of up to 5 or 6, kicked off the island to find another.  the central-mass of sound moved on down the street and around the corner.  crows flew in and out of the tree, of my field of vision, of the patch of paling blue between the leaves & roofs around me.  i watched a few hundred silouettes disperse and rearrange, some tatter-feathered & jagged, others sleek & smooth, bobbing in ominous flight or speeding like arrows.

by 5:30 or so there were only a few left, although their echoes reverberated down the street in both directions; silence fell in moments between three-part calls and accusations.  the sparrows came out, and the neighborhood cats.  a few cars passed by on the main road at the corner, & i left them to work out the fine details on their own. 

the counting-songs don’t say what to do with a thousand crows.  & of course there’s no guarantee that, even if something is a message, it’s a message meant for you.  i could just have been eavesdropping in on someone else’s mystic conversation.  but i was the only watcher/listener i saw.




13 responses

21 07 2004

that is so cool

21 07 2004

I suppose I’m going to have to work on my behavior in these situations because I always seem to come off as something less than romantic. Maybe it has to do with the hour and the fact that I usually have only two functions at that time. I dunno. I couldn’t really see anything. I thought it was kinda foggy/misty, but it could have been that my eyes are not one of the two things that function at 5 a.m.
Why the crows were wheeling and cawing at such an obscene time is beyond me, as is the fact that you needed a sweater and I was in boxers. Maybe temperature regulation is another one of those things that is not one of my two 5 a.m. functions.
Enough excuses…

21 07 2004

you are TOO romantic
shut up. i love what you do when you do it. nobody asked you to do everything, all the time. OR to function at 5am. in fact, i think i specifically remember one of the agreements we made at the beginning of this relationship being about how i liked mornings & you didn’t, & i didn’t mind the discrepancy and wasn’t going to ask you to be any different (although i did promise to drag you up for the occasional sunrise, just b/c i’m convinced they’re good for the soul…)
and it was much cooler on the roof than in the house, that’s all. well. & it is easier to be mystical in sweaters that smell like irish sheep. sweaters you bought me, i might add. when you took me to ireland. to laugh at the sheep and listen to a different flock of cacophonous crows outside the cottage in the mornings…

21 07 2004

For all the fantastic parts to American Gods, my favorite quote from thatis still: “Hey Raven, say ‘Nevermore.'” “F- you.”
And then there is Dementia: “One for sorrow, two for sorrow, three for sorrow, four for something else because there’s been too much sorrow…”
(Admittedly, I may be mis-remembering these.)

21 07 2004

Got me thinking …
Remembered a poem I’d read once when you meantioned the crows

21 07 2004

Wild, man, wild. Send them down my way. I’ve got words for them to carry around.

21 07 2004

f’i see ’em again. they left behind a few collectible feathers, if you want those…

23 07 2004

i told them.
i’m not really sure how one goes about telling anything to a thousand crows, but i tried speaking, w/lots of repetition of key ideas, since i imagine w/that many of them talking at once they have attention-spans like schoolchildren, & telepathy if i have any.
they didn’t come back this morning for a third go. maybe they’re on their way.

21 07 2004

Very fucking Cool.
im jealous (but very glad) you got to see and hear and be a part of that. we havent had a good murder down here for far too long.
ty is such a lunchbox. he doesnt get that you love the stuff he does and doesnt do–JUST THE WAY HE DOES AND DOESNT DO IT. silly, romantic boy.
and have i mentioned in the last minute or so how much i Love the way you write?

21 07 2004

ha ha, ty, b sez you’re a lunchbox! πŸ™‚
i suspect if anything might inspire them to an encore, it would be your presence here. although you might not appreciate their timing any more than he did, really… πŸ™‚

21 07 2004

i can be suprisingly coherent and appreciative, even early in the morning, with the right motivation. πŸ™‚

21 07 2004

i can only hope to someday (& preferably SEVERAL) get to be that motivation.
& take that however you like, ms. “devious.”

21 07 2004

*halo* (this one’s tinfoil–apparently my coat-hanger one was dangerous.)

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