It was completely ordinary day when I walked home from work, by the usual route. Nice intimate streets, small but tasty houses, trees and hedgerows.
I had just made a sharp left turn to an even smaller street when something attacked me from behind. It wasn’t physical, but something attacked me. In these kinds of moments people tend to have eyes on their back and so did I. It was a shadow, that’s for sure. I saw it! Yes I did… almost. And definitely felt it. A dark shadow attacked me from behind.
I wasn’t frightened, more like intrigued about how the situation would develop. But of course, it wasn’t a shadow – it was a Corvus, a Crow, and a wannabe Raven. It flew to stand at the nearest utility cable and immediately started to bite it. Stupid bird trying to eat plastic insulation, I thought. It pecked and bit the cable with some anger, it never looked at me, like it’s anger was of general kind. Okay, so what.
I turned away and started to go on my way, and immediately the crow attacked me again – a glimpsing dark shadow at the back of my neck. Damn bird. Now it occupied a small branch of the cultured chesnut so tastily standing at the corner, where alley in question made a right-angle turn.
Again, it started a display of pecking and biting. I watched with interest how some small saplings of the branch were violently shaken.
Then I had enough of this mindlessness: in a pleasant spring-bath of sun I was getting pestered by a lowly bird. I turned away to leave the annoying incident behind and spit somewhat arrogantly over my left shoulder, to let the Corvus know that I’m done with this, and every other kind of nonsense.
I moved on but had my privacy only for a couple of moments because the flying attack was commenced again. Didn’t I watch the bird’s display of anger respectfully enough or had I marched into some kind of limbo? Mustn’t I ever turn a back on a Corvus again?
But I did, and pressed on. Before I started to move I thought that it would be a good idea to spit over my left shoulder again, maybe just for the reason to make the first attempt to count again. So I did spit over my left shoulder, just in case, you know.
This time I managed to move to the end of the alley until I was forced to turn around again: some angry noises and general confusion captured my attention. Several crows were flying around and there was a feeling of small battle going on. Some birds flew into a round cultured bush-like tree that was formed over a relatively short and wide trunk that must have belonged to a very tall and old tree before it was cut down to be suitable for modern residential area.
Much shaking and restlessness was going on in that tree-crown. I could mentally determine the position of the sphere of the action inside the tree as small twigs and some leaves were missiled out from that area. All that was accompanied by other crows seemingly aimlessly flying back and forth across the street while constantly crawing. The sound they made was the least random of all that was going on in that place. I noticed sanity and system in the noises they were making. As the scene observed had taken a distinct, cartoon-like quality, I had enough of it. Before I finally stepped out of the Corvus alley I spit over my shoulder for the third time – just in case.