But then, i stepped out into my very urban back lane, and got stared down by the wild eyes of this crow. They're geniuses, apparently, and they remember things forever.
This fall, there was one that got hit by a car in the back lane.
I left him bits of carrots and a bowl of water.
He cawed up a storm, but eventually ate my offerings. I like to think that he survived, not because of the carrots and water of course, but because of his wildness.
And now I'll bet, still wild of course, he is the same guy who stared me down this morning.
Perhaps politeness was an invention of the tame and that his deep wild eyes looked into mine with a nod that I didn't understand because I've forgotten my wildness.
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