may 6, 2018

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“Scientists warn that constant fear and anger are bad for our health, while being compassionate and warm-hearted contributes to our physical and mental well-being. Therefore, just as we observe physical hygiene to stay well, we need to cultivate a kind of emotional hygiene too.” ~ Dalai Lama


back to the nest


I understand that, by 11 last night, South Lexington, where I live, had accumulated nearly two inches of rain with the heaviest to come. I drove through pouring rain all the way home from West Liberty. Wally and I immediately checked on Edgar. We found him soaked to the bone, slow, and shaking. I considered wrapping him in a towel and bringing him inside, but I figured Edgar’s plight was not uncommon in the wild. Sure, that much rain at once is a lot, but it’s not necessarily uncommon. Who am I to know better than Mother Nature? But I did want to help knowing that more rain was on the way. I found the top of a cat litter box with a doorway. I put it on his stick mound, then placed him inside. I was feeling very guilty for not doing it sooner because he was distressed. In fact, I can’t say that I’ve ever seen a bird that wet that was also alive. The forecast I’d heard before leaving for West Liberty did not call for a deluge, only scattered showers, and Edgar was in the yard practicing. I couldn’t interfere with that, and he would have just come out of the shelter anyway. But perhaps I was wrong to not bring him inside because he did not survive the night. Wally and I found him this morning right where I left him; still soaked to the bone. I was, I am, heartbroken. I buried him beside my sweet cat, Jack, under the pine tree where I first saw him, placing a stone riddled with coral fossils that look like crows feet as a monument atop his grave. I trust he’s now warm and flying. Godspeed, Edgar, and thank you for your magic.


where the loved ones rest

may 4, 2018

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“Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.” ~ Will Rogers




Once again I came home to find Edgar near his woodpile. Jill LeMaster asked for video, so I shot a little with my phone (below). You can hear the parents having a fit. Edgar Allen Crow, Sr. and the Mrs. whom I call… wait for it… Sheryl (props to Sarah Dorpinghaus for that belly laugh), keep an eye on little Edgar Jr. They bounce between the nearby walnut tree and my dying oak tree. I try to photograph them, but they’re so high up in the branches, this is about as good as it gets,. So far. The interesting thing is that, when they’re not around, Little Edgar is super calm and will let me touch him. But when they’re squawking, he does what they say and heads for the hills, or the mound as the case may be. It’s good to listen to your parents.


may 3, 2018

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“Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.” ~ Walt Whitman


Edgar Allen Crow, Jr.


I’m so proud of Edgar. He survived the night under the protection of the forsythia bush. I looked out the window first thing this morning and he was already up and hopping. I was utterly delighted. By the time I left for work he had worked his way down the fenceline – walking far better than just twelve hours earlier – and managed to climb up a small mound of sticks. All this under the watchful eye of the rather vocal parents. It was amazing to watch them coach little Edgar along without interfering.




When I got home this evening, I found Edgar on his stick mound. He’s balancing rather impressively, and he’s noticeably larger than he was last night. I believe he’s beginning to recognize his name, too. Each time I say ‘Edgar’, he turns his head to me and raises his brow. I neglected to mention yesterday that, when I got from home from work, St. Francis, patron saint of animals, had disappeared from his gas cap perch. Yet, Edgar, the fledgling crow, appeared in the backyard. Coincidence? There are no coincidences. Thank you, St. Francis. I hope Wally and I are worthy.


new digs

may 2, 2018

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“Keep your dreams alive. Understand to achieve anything requires faith and belief in yourself, vision, hard work, determination, and dedication. Remember all things are possible for those who believe.” ~ Gail Devers


my new friend


When I got home from work I saw a smallish bird sitting near the pine tree. I thought it was a grackle that didn’t shy away from the opening garage door, and jokingly said to myself, “Too bad it’s not a crow.” There have been a pair of crows in my pine tree for about a month, and I was hoping they had built a home there, although I can’t see it if they have. I went into the house, opened the windows to let the delicious spring breeze in, and as Leo sat crouched in the window, I heard a crow begin to caw mightily. It was a ruckus for sure, so I went back outside. The crow flew up a few branches and stopped talking. I went back inside. About fifteen minutes later, Wally wanted out yet again. As I opened the door I saw something black in the middle of the yard. It took me a second to realize it was a bird; I reckoned it was the grackle and it must have been hurt, and Wally killed it (that’s the only way the little short-legged feller could catch it). Wally and I approached. It wasn’t a grackle. Lo and behold, in fact, it was a baby crow. Furthermore, it wasn’t dead. I talked to it for a very long time, and for all the world he seemed to understand. Naturally, I got the camera and spent more time with him, talking as I snapped. Eventually, he headed for the safety of the fence where he remains. Wally and I check on him every so often, and we’ve been greeted by the adults cawing from the oak. They never swoop down on us, and the baby is a cool character, too. As you can see, Wally escorted him to the fence. He’s a good boy. If anyone has any ideas on how I can help Edgar Allen Crow (yea, I went there), let me know. I feel like I’ve been given an incredible gift.


Edgar Allen Crow and his dog