It was a classic Vancouver winter walk this morning — penetratingly cold and damp. And only October!!!
Looks as if frigid weather is set to come early this year, with snow falling on local mountains, and the rain down here in the city seeming on the edge of sleet at times.
But — another one of my mother’s many handy sayings — “Every cloud has a silver lining.” In this case, the silver lining is made of soggy crows.
I imagine their looks are long suffering, but that could just be me projecting.
In any case, I always politely extend my commiserations as I walk by.
One of Mabel’s extended family
Marvin posing with a gourd in a neighbour’s garden
Wet Arthur
Golden maple crow, possibly Ada
Some of my favourite crow portraits have been really wet crows.
Judgemental Crows, below, captures the look that Marvin and Mabel often give me on rainy days. It seems to imply that the weather is purely the result of some bungling on my part.
In Philosopher Crow, Mavis embodies all that is stoic and thoughtful in a crow’s expression.
Another from this morning — one of Mabel’s offspring, humming the lyrics of You’ll Never Walk Alone
You’ll Never Walk Alone
Lyrics by Rogers and Hammerstein
When you walk through a storm Hold your head up high And don’t be afraid of the dark
At the end of a storm There’s a golden sky And the sweet silver song of a lark
Walk on through the wind Walk on through the rain Though your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on, walk on With hope in your heart And you’ll never walk alone
You’ll never walk alone
Walk on, walk on With hope in your heart And you’ll never walk alone
You’ll never walk alone
Cue strings ….
While I may be imagining that the crows are suffering in the wet weather, I know for sure that Geordie, a California dog, can’t wait to get back in the dry.
Please can we go home now …?
While he loves snow, he really, really does not like rain, in spite of the stylish raincoat.
Back home and vying for fireside positioning with Edgar.
This post will have stories … about crows … eventually.
But first, I wanted to share a few thoughts that have been rolling around in my head about the idea of “story.”
Mostly I look at the world in a visual way. I’m a photographer, so I’m always looking for shapes, colours, light, shade, textures and so on. They do say that a picture is worth a thousand words but, for me, the words hovering behind the picture are just as important. Every photograph I take has at least the inkling of a story behind it.
My academic background is in English Literature — so, naturally I’m a sucker for narrative. I guess that’s why, even though my work is pictorial, I’ve come to love writing this blog. The thousand words behind the picture.
Crows seem to be the perfect subjects for both pictures and stories.
Visually, they are fascinating — whether viewed from a distance as inky calligraphy against the sky …
… or closer up, where you can see the myriad colours in the allegedly black feathers, and the soulful intelligence in their restless eyes.
Story-wise, they’re an endless resource. They’re a minefield of metaphor and motif; a stockpile of symbolism and simile.
And character — don’t get me started! Every time I spend time with a crow, I can’t help but see something in their expression that parallels the human experience.
And I guess that’s the value of story.
It lures you into looking deeper into worlds that aren’t your own, and makes your life richer, funnier and more full of empathy as a result.
OK, enough rambling and, finally (as promised) some crow-necdotes!
Tales of Mavis and Marvin
As winter dug in, it became clear that these two had become de facto king and queen of my back garden. For a while some of the younger crows from the Firehall Five would try and horn in on the action, but there must have been some sort of back room deal, because I now never see them in the yard. Occasionally there is some minor skirmish with Eric and Clara who will make forays into the front garden, but generally detente has been reached in the hyper-local corvid community.
On Christmas Day Marvin and Mavis had the garden to themselves, apart from the chickadees, juncos, song sparrow and lone hummingbird.
Art Appreciation
Marvin continues his fascination with the garden statuary.
Not sure if this was a gesture of affection, or frustration at the failure of his efforts to get a response.
Attempting conversation with the equally taciturn cast iron crows by the studio.
New Year Challenge
The daily offering of peanuts and dog kibble was becoming a bit routine, so I decided to give Marvin and Mavis a bit more of a challenge. Once they’ve had a few easy-picking peanuts and kibble from the back deck, I set up a bit of an obstacle course for them.
There’s a gnarled piece of Hornby Island driftwood in the garden by the picket fence. I wedge a few peanuts in the stick and watch Marvin and Mavis problem-solve how to get them out. First challenge is negotiating a route along the tricky picket fence.
The first few tries had them scrambling and flapping. It’s also a bit of a “beat the clock” affair, since chickadees are snatching them easily from the driftwood while Marvin and Mavis are figuring out how to get to them.
King of the driftwood castle.
After a couple of weeks, they are now experts. This photo of Marvin, showing off his picket fence mastery is now one of my favourites (and available as prints and tiles!).
Winter Weather
As usual in Vancouver, we’ve had a winter mélange of snow, rain and wind. Some of my favourite crow portraits are catching them in seeming response to adverse weather conditions. It’s then that they most remind me of myself, waiting at a bus stop or trudging home with shopping. That stoic and and somewhat exasperated look.
#rainblame
Philosopher Crow — or, Mavis adopts a philosophical approach in the face of inevitable.
Curse, you winter! Actually, this was Mavis’s response to Edgar (the cat) being out on the back deck. More like, “curse you, cat!”
So, the crow stories are endless really. I’m sure I’ll have more I can’t keep to myself soon. I hope they get you to look at the crows in your part of the world with more interest and affection, because life is just more entertaining once you let crows in.
