A Murder of Crows

Many of us know they’re called a Murder of Crows and not a flock (unless you’re an ornithologist), and certainly not an Exaltation, as of Larks. This came from poetic license back in the 15th century.

Walking in our neighborhood is usually a beautiful experience, even when we can’t go far on any specific day, such as during Extreme Heatwaves! Early mornings are the best time to venture out, since evenings bring more mosquitoes. Many of our deciduous trees have been cut down or are dying from a decade of drought, but numerous birds still visit and build nests…so far.

This morning, being July 5th, I awoke with a horrible headache from the heat and humidity and the reckless exploding for many hours of the loudest, illegal fireworks my asinine neighbors could dredge up. The same people for blocks around do this, year after year.

Have they forgotten another pyromaniac neighbor’s garage blew up when loose gunpowder exploded, just 2 or 3 years ago? Probably.

More likely they just don’t give a hoot while trying to get that feeling of euphoria.

Much more likely is their need to thumb their noses and vent their rage at the government – all levels of it – because no one is listening to us about anything.

Have they forgotten the entire western states (seven of them so far) are enduring a serious drought, requiring minimal use of water, inside and out?

Everything is tinder dry to the point where some uninformed neighbors are spying on other neighbors, reporting them for wasting water when their actual usage is already less than 1/3 of what they’re allowed. Maybe some neighbors should attempt enrolling in law school, where facts are everything.

But as they say, I digress. For all the good they do, crows are extremely noisy, raucously so, early in the morning, as in cranking up at 6:00 a.m. and preaching through 9:00 a.m. or later. Sometimes, it’s a family of four; other times they’re joined by the rest of the ecclesiastical community, strutting their stuff as they lecture us. Either way, they’re yelling at the rest of the world that we’re slothful and need to get our lazy bones in gear, hangover or not.

If ever there were a living creature who needed to wear a muzzle until lunch time to avoid being murdered, the crow is it. And for those of you just dragging home off graveyard shift, I apologize. I hope your schedule is such that you can sleep through the even noisier gardeners all afternoon instead. For myself, at 6 a.m., crows are on my murder list.

Crows do necessary work in ridding the world of carrion, cockroaches, tossed fast food delicacies, etc. but they also kill earthworms and other birds’ eggs and babies. Not nice at all. In any event, they do need to shut up about it. Quit bragging! And I hate that they catch baby lizards, drown them in the gutters, and then try to cram them down the throats of their toddler chicks. Yes, they do! I’ve seen them at it three times already this past month or so.

Lizards eat so many insects that might otherwise overwhelm us and they’re much more polite and quiet than a Murder of Crows.

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