A Caw-cus of Corvids

Reading Time: < 1 minute

A murder of crows and a rabble of ravens are nothing to mess around with, but I think an aggregation of corvids should be called a caw-cus. I know the spot where the crows congregate at night by thousands, if not tens of thousands. And I’ve seen the tree with a raven on every branch many years ago. I hear them chat amongst themselves. I don’t know what they talk about or what they are plotting. I know it can’t be good. I just hope their caw-cus is no more effective than a human one.

Forest Floor Scribography

Reading Time: < 1 minuteA convoy of turtles plowing their shells through the surface visible only as moving water humps.

An agitated blue heron screeching its way though a pass in the treeline over the horizon.

A white-tailed deer eyeing us warily hides its white rump under its flapping tail.

Bruce and Bryce walk the outside fence on the narrow running board of a cement bridge over a creek while Peshankus tracks them on the inside.

A fleeting glimpse of two cormorants that hastily skim the muddy water in retreat.

A white heron flickers through the picket fence of tree trunks and dancing leaves.

The racing stripe of a garter snake disappears into the underbrush with Pashankus in pursuit.

** Scribography – I just invented this word as a juxtaposition to photography: the capture of an image with words instead of photos. Somethings I just couldn’t capture on camera.