Using a long lens, through the wavy glass of the 100 year old windows on my porch, I caught this image. I feed the wild birds every morning, and a family of crows waits here, atop a craggy dead spruce tree, until I go back indoors. Then they silently swoop down for a breakfast of peanuts, corn and sunflower seeds.
I have been fascinated by crows ever since I was a little girl. My mother used to tell me a story about a man in town who found an abandoned baby crow and raised it. It would visit around the neighborhood, swiping shiny objects and pulling the clothes pins off of laundry on the line. When it wasn't causing such mischief it would ride on the shoulder of the man who raised it, a glistening, chattering companion. Oh! how I wanted to have a crow of my own.