Monday, December 13, 2010

The Crows of K-State and a Little Crowbomb Story

Holy Moley. Thousands of Crows come at dusk to roost in the trees over the President's house and Justin Hall.
The Big Eye on the top of Bluemont Hall
could probably get some really fab pics of them...

If you leave the campus just before dusk,
you will become aware, like the scent of Hitchcock slipping over you, of the steady arrival of enourmous black birds, floating quietly in, from every direction, some in huge flocks.
If you leave AT dusk,
the noise begins--grunts and crows, squwacks and squeeks.
If you come in the morning-after, you will become aware of the two qualities of crow bombs dropped from the trees- the standard bird offering, slippery white opalescent splashes that once prompted president wefald (i assume) to have aluminum pi pans attached to the highest branches in the trees (the noise of their knocking about meant to scare the birds away..)--and a second, softer crowbomb, maize-colored sandy bits which if you believe cartoons, is probably just barely digested corn.
Here is the moon as it begins--
Crow's December Moon mtodd
click  then click again on this large pic and you can see the craters in the moon.

Here are the crows roosting,
and below, some videos of the arrivals. Then i will tell you
a little crowbomb story.

Click on Videos twice to leave the page and view larger on youtube.
Crows of K-State

The arrival of Evening Crows at K-state

This Video seems scary to me.

I once saw a sweet little squirrel mourn for a fallen friend. It was an amazing display that changed my view of things. while posting my crow videos, i saw this:

I just got a call to meet at Daddy O'pigglies ot watch k-state basketball (in chicago) so
the crowbomb story will have to wait.
go cats-

Back later.

So, I leave the building
and expect to film and photo the crows.
 I stand on the sidewalk,
remove my almost new
 fancy schmancy black leather gloves with the little Michelle Pfeiffer** buttons (a sweet gift to myself to get in the ravishing romance frame of mind...) --well, i remove the right glove, the better to maneuver the camera.
i take my time,
the moon's craters are showing,
 i film the birds,
 i get right under them; the night is coming on fast and it is scary, breathy, ccold, blue bluer superman's hair Blue
fading away are the sounds of the humans on campus as the last make for the perimeter
the crows
raise the decibels
late arrivals get into arguments
Thats My Place!
it becomes dizzying to hear the increasing cacophony, the rustling about, the darkening sky,
particularly when you are spinning around with your camera...
I'm thinking, as i stand under a few hundred roosted crows near the president's house,  i'm surprised i have not had some Asian Good Luck dropped on me.
 time to go.
as i take a step, i have the sensation of
something landing on the center of the top of my head.
i put my hand on the top of my head and --nothing. i pat the top of my head, and as i realize
 there is nothing there
-- a small helping of barely digested corn lands in its entirety square in the middle of the top of my hand.
The hand without the glove.

How long
before my thought
 had that  bit of Luck been Let Go-
and isn't it that way with all things; ?  the flat tire, the grumbling over that which is our very salvation.

The irritation and fluttering and cursing and grmbling over that which is our very salvation.

** The Age of Innocence ...he transformed the undoing of a single button on Michelle Pfeiffer's glove into an act of electrifying eroticism.

Crow Walkin By

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