Last Dawn of 2014

Dawn Flight

I took some time to appreciate the last dawn of 2014 – and such a dawn it was.

After a festive season of heath challenges, it seems even more important that usual to appreciate the small things that are big.

Being with family, good friends, health (it’s all relative), moments of quiet loveliness, every dawn, every sunset. Crows, naturally.

A week or so before Christmas my husband was in a nasty bike accident. When we found him in emergency he couldn’t remember the last five years or so of his life, or how he had come to be in the ER. Thanks to his helmet, he did not have a major brain injury, “just” a concussion. By the next day he remembered everything, except for the ride to work, the accident, the ride in the ambulance and the hours spent in the hospital. These things he may never remember. Concussions, I am learning, are tricky things, taking anything from weeks to months to recover from. Phillip has spent about 90% of the holiday season in bed, in the dark with his new best friends — audio books. Even watching TV or reading is too much for his rattled brain at this point.

He will get better eventually, with rest and quiet, so as frustrating as the process of healing can be, we are grateful every day that things weren’t much, much worse.

So this morning I made a point of spending an hour or so bundled up on the top deck of our house to welcome in the last day of 2014 in all its splendour. This may be the most exciting part of my New Year’s celebrations this year, but that’s just fine with me.

The first of the commuter crows arrive.

The first of the commuter crows arrive.

As the sun rose, the sky behind the poplars at the end of our street was painted with sugared almond shades of peach, raspberry and lavender. And, as reliable as clockwork, the crows began to arrive from the east and their night time roost at Still Creek. Most were just passing through, heading to their “day jobs” in North Vancouver and points west of here.

Crow's Nest View of the Dawn

But the locals stopped on the very tops of the poplars as if to take in the breath-taking views. I’ve often noticed them hanging around there on mornings with particularly gorgeous sunrises, as if they are as susceptible to the beauty as I am. Of course, it could be that they sit there every morning and I only notice them when I happen to be out taking in the view myself, but I prefer to go with my “crows as dawn worshippers” theory.

Incoming

You can see the neighbourhood waking up from the vantage point of our roof, the sky changing and a positive rush hour of birds – flickers, gulls, geese, sparrows, juncos, were spotted this morning, as well as Eric and the gang.

Gulls over the Mountains

The northern flicker scooped the weeping birch perch this morning.

The northern flicker scooped the weeping birch perch this morning.

As I watched Eric and his little group huddling together on the wires, I was also reminded of how grateful we’ve been for all the friends who’ve rallied around since the accident. It’s the crow equivalent of volunteers leaving the little crow family group to head over and scare away the eagle. I’m sure our friends would scare eagles away for us too, but, in the absence of winged predators, we are very grateful for all of the soup, cookies, help and concern that we’ve received.

Family Group on Pink

And, of course, I’m very grateful to Eric and his corvid kin, because watching them lifts me away from my worries and cares for a while as I realize there are so many lives being lived in parallel to our human ones, even here in the middle of East Vancouver.

The colours of the sunrise glow on Eric's feathers

The colours of the sunrise glow on Eric’s feathers

Happy New Year, everyone. From me, and Eric.

Who Is Eric?

Well, I’m sure he has a different self-image entirely, but this is his CV from my perspective.

Here I Am

Eric, first of all, is a crow.

He is, relative to others of his species, quite unconcerned by my camera. In fact, since I use a long lens, I often have to back away from him to keep him in focus. We crow paparazzi are a minor inconvenience in his life.

My husband has described Eric as the James Bond of crows.

He lands on any awkward surface with purpose, aplomb and minimal flapping.

One down, four to go.

One down, four to go.

If there are 5 nuts he will make sure he methodically picks up each one with no spillage.

If there are only 4 nuts, Eric will wait and look at me meaningfully until I fill his quota (5). After all, the trip has to be worth his time. Plus he’s letting me take his picture. Further evidence that birds can count!

Three down, two to go

Three down, two to go

Eric does not like celery. I saved the scraps from the turkey this Thanksgiving and froze small bags of it to serve up as special treats. He loves his turkey leftovers with stuffing, but I always find any trace of celery meticulously picked out and left behind.

Eric LOVES cheese puffs. I believe, like humans, he is addicted to whatever terrible substance is in that yellow powder. These are a very occasional treat. I don’t want to turn him into a junk food junkie.

Eric is a family crow. His mate usually watches his food gathering antics from the hydro wires. The two kids come with him to watch and learn. Occasionally Eric lets them get a morsel or two.

He’s a real stickler for appearances, spending a lot of time grooming his (sometimes impatient) offspring. I can almost hear him muttering, “How do you expect to get on in the world, with your feathers all uncombed like that?”

There. Now that's better.

There. Now that’s better.

Hmmm....

Eric Junior is not sure about the new hairdo.

Finally, why “Eric”?

The name just popped into my head one day.

It seems to combine Viking boldness with Monty Python humour.

This will be the first of what I hope will be many Eric Reports. Of course, you never know with wild creatures — today may be the last day I see him. So I’d better get out there with his five almonds!

Eric the Crow

Sit Still, I Think I Missed a Bit

Crow grooming hilarity. The recipient of the thorough going-over seems happy enough for a while. S/he seems to tire of the process part way through — but there is no way the job is going to go unfinished! I am reminded of my mother polishing my face with a hankie before I headed into elementary school. You can almost hear the junior crow muttering, “gerroff”.

Honestly, I could spend all day watching the local crows. Luckily, it’s kind of my job!

http://www.junehunter.com/collections/crow-portrait-series-fine-art-photo-prints

Edgar the Crow makes his daily rounds, in spite of a torrential downpour.

Edgar the Crow makes his daily rounds, in spite of a torrential downpour.