Attracting the Big Black Birds.

I don’t know what’s going on with the crows lately. I’ve always had visits to my garden and bird table from the smaller members of the family – the jackdaws and magpies – but now I’ve got a pair of bigger Carrion Crows taking a frequent interest in my little piece of earth. That’s never happened before, and coming on top of the visit from the big, big raven, it has me slightly nonplussed. Crows pick over the bones of dead things, don’t they?

Maybe they’re picking up on my mood. A certain person was forcing herself into my consciousness this morning when I woke up. She wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t very nice. It brought up one of the problems of being an ageing male who was once fit and strong, but on whom time has taken its toll until he’s left to take refuge in imagination, observation of perceived analogies, and the dubious distinction of having a sensitive spirit.

I call it the Deposed Stag Mentality, because it presages pretty much the same prospects. The mind accepts the cyclical imperative, but the heart can’t help resisting.