ROOSTING
The crow surveyed the area below, its cold, black eyes scanning the muddy, melting morass of the spring thaw. A cool breeze ruffled the evergreen and filled the air with the rolling rattle of dried leaves that had clung desperately to the tree throughout the winter.
In a neighbouring tree, her mate squawked a guttural forlorn barking that echoed through the quiet residential area.
A man puffed on a cigarette just outside the entrance of a dwelling below, head turned towards the clear blue skies as he exhaled the brownish yellow clouds from his cigarette. The crow cawed once, drawing the man’s attention to the treetops, but he was unable to spot the mischievous bird.
From his perch above, he watched as the man below slowly lost interest in his search, finished his smoke, and reentered the building behind him.
The crow called out to his mate as she took flight, flapping her ebony wings as she raised up from the distant cedar and glided down to a nearby chimney. She called back to him in a playful, flirtatious note of derision.
He flapped his wings twice, but remained firmly planted in his roost. She let out another mournful bark, and took to the skies once more, tracing lazy circles against the clear blue backdrop. He rose to meet her and then darted through the skies playing a fitful game of cat and mouse.
A dozen ducks passed by, wearily eyeing the playful antics. Their distrust was palpable.
Their supremacy of the skies secure, the two crows spiraled down to the earth below where they hopped across the icy mud in search of a snack. It would be summer soon, and the world would revert to the bounteous land of plenty they enjoyed.
For now, he was content knowing that it would soon be breeding time. That was always an excellent time and the true harbinger for the lazy respite of summer.
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