Well, the black Crows are back. In force.
They have gathered their friends and descended on the Sycamore trees
along the creek in front of our old farm house, cawing fluttering wings,
and generally driving the Squirrels
crazy, in their nest in the hollow space in the biggest of the trees.
The Crows are not admitting the black walnut attack, by the Squirrels,
even happened. Course, with the Wildlife Communication System, speeding
along from creature to creature via Coyote News Service, it is pretty
hard to cover up something like that. The Squirrels are trying to rouse
their Base, moving against the young black Crow that has risen to power
among the mass of Feather Dusters, but the battle is far from over.
Mama and Papa Squirrel have about given up laying up for the big Winter
Sleep, after all, this black Crow invasion is a threat to their very way
of life, liberty and the pursuit of whatever it is that Squirrels
pursue. Grandpa Fuzzy Tail, the old Patriarch of the Squirrel Clan, and
the expert black Walnut thrower, has gone back up the creek to rest up
after leading the force against the black Crows.
Somehow, the
feeling is in the air that today could be the deciding factor in the
War of the Crows and Squirrels, with a battle this evening that could
determine the outcome of this struggle. I dunno, time will tell.
Meanwhile, I am just an observer of life as it moves by the front
porch, possibly slipping into a stage of semi-craziness, driven that way
by these dang Creature Wars that seem to never end. Oh, if life were
only as simple as a nest in a hollow Sycamore tree, burrowing a little
deeper in the pile of multicolored leaves, storing up enough nuts to get
you through the Winter…..
-Stan
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