BIRDSONG

CROW

a house just a shell

til your toast down the chimney

makes it all homey again 

We had just moved. I had a small baby, and was nursing someone very ill. In stealth I came downstairs at the quiet start of the day to find crusts lying in the fireplace. The crows I heard thumping on the roof, and swinging on the tv aerial, had been taking breakfast there for generations. They had seen generations of people come and go. Now they were dropping the neighbours' burnt toast down the chimney for me.

It was a searingly solitary time, living on the raw edge of nerves, checking he was alive first thing before putting the kettle on for tea and to warm some milk for the little one, wondering what life was about, brought to my knees sweeping the fireplace out.

Crows told me life hadn't changed. It was still about all the same things, about routine, and about kindness. Jumping on aerials. Cawing. Small things to make big smiles. 

When my boat rocks again, I will know I can trust a crow to steady me. 

*****

video: a crow admiring the beauty of nature, vidar136, to an accompaniment of the tune of 'What wonderful World':

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMRDgmOpHLw

I edited this haibun, including more of the truth about how hard those days were. Consequently, earlier comments reflect the lighter-hearted side of this :))

For references to sacredness of crows, back to Elijah's cave and Noah's coracle, read on.