6 Black Birds

Sugar and I poke our noses out the front door into the already warm summer day. As usual, three or four squirrels make a mad dash from the bird feeder to the safety of a nearby tree. They startle a flock of birds roosting in the tree top who commence to squawk and caw and flutter about raucously. Sugar, who started to chase after the squirrels, stops dead in her tracks and stares at the tree top. She sits cautiously and waits to see what they will do.

These crows are huge. Almost the size of ducks. They spread their wings wide and I think they could give a hawk a run for its money. I wonder if they are a family. What *do* you call a flock of crows? Wikipedia, that controversial online knowledge base, informs me that they are called a "murder!" I never thought of crows as particularly murderous. Vulture-like carrion scavengers perhaps. But not murderous. Of course, looks can be deceiving.

They are supposedly quite intelligent and able to both make and use tools. Hum I can't quite picture a crow hammering a nail into its roost. This "murder" seems bent on making a fuss for being disturbed. Their caws could wake the dead. And maybe even the sleeping teenager. Sugar finally loses interest in their antics and continues our walk, more interested in identifying which way the neighbor's dog walked earlier and why the bees are hovering over the lavender bush.