On one of the first Mornings of Cranes this year, this crow (who does spend a lot of time here) was marching a straight line through the cut grass (a thing he often does) when a crane turned up behind him and began to march the same way and in the same direction. Although, as a crane, he took longer steps, and was gaining on the crow. But the crow kept marching, just notched up the speed a little. They continued for a short distance. Then the crane spread his wings and waved them, while aiming his long beak at the crow., Finally the crow flew. And the crane went along the lawn and on into the meadow. I took this picture when the crow retunred to the lawn and began again the slow march that had been so rudly interrupted. After completing his lawn walk, he flew away. And another green day began.
No poem tonight, just this little fable. Sleep well!
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