Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Hawks and crows


I have no real idea what a hawk is thinking or feeling while it flies up there. Perhaps it's hungry, but I'm not exactly sure what that feels like in hawk terms. I can only guess it feels clumsy, perhaps a deep unsure sense of the air currents. It makes mistakes but how is it aware of that? I wouldn't know. I am not a hawk.

Crows are a little different. They've lived with us for long enough for us to know a bit about each other. They speak to me:
"I'm tired."
"I'm hungry."
"You better not be coming over near my kids."
"Let's fuck with this stink-ape,"
"I think it's going to rain today," or
"Can't you do something about those goddamned raccoons?"
I don't know, but I can hear that more easily. The language is croaky and harsh to  my ears, but perhaps that is all familiarity is: a clattering that grows into language and communication.

And I'm guessing they have some theological opinions.

No comments:

Post a Comment