Confession: A little big noisy bird told me
What is in the middle of the highway as it snakes through northern Arizona? Nothing much. A little gravel. Some tufts of fur from last month's roadkill antelope. A few sunflower seed husks from the car in front. Maybe a french fry or two (until they are embedded in the tread of the tires on a Ford F-150). What is in the middle of the highway that makes me want to stand on my seat and yell? The crow. Usually plural. Poking at the blacktop, searching for food and nesting. Shiny black birds standing directly in the path of vehicles that can easily become deadly weapons. They stand there playing chicken (or crow) while I hurtle toward them, wishing their brains were bigger so they would understand empathy for other species. I wish they would care more about me, as I sit with my eyes and mouth stretched wide, willing them to get out of the road so that next week's flock won't be picking at their feathers and bones.
They are crows. I should get over it. They are noisy black birds that live with the witch in Snow White. Why am I so concerned? I nearly run over pigeons every time I drive into the Walmart parking lot. However, in that situation, I am usually driving about 10 miles per hour rather than hurtling down the interstate. They make my heart hurt. These animals practically invite death. (They are crows, though, and aren't they supposed to herald death or something like that? Or is that the raven?) They invite death to my calm karma, my prana. In ten seconds I descend into the oh no oh no oh nononono!!! state of mind that I am supposed to avoid for the benefit of my mental health. Damn crows.
Maybe I envy the a little. These animals focus completely on themselves. They rely on their own skills to fly out of the way just in time. They have faith in themselves. And it didn't take five years of therapy for them to find it. These crows have never heard and comprehended the words war, Iraq, oil spill, earthquake, college decision. Their thought processes revolve around french fry in road must go get...
Who am I kidding? I only wish I was a crow long enough to drive up on another flock of them. And then my attention turns back to not running them over. Damn crows.
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Sorry for the huge delay in posting. Midterms + poetry season + college visits = no time
