Thursday, December 4, 2008

Fur and feathers all



On an early blue sky morning I climbed the bare winter bones of the great ash tree. All was quiet, just the distant sound of a wave on sand. Then into the tree came one black cleric, soot shining feather cloak, beak like a spear, bead eyed, loud.



And soon there were more, their cloaks flapping, down from the sky they came, to shout at orange cats in the bright branches, to flap and caw. But they did not get too close, for though they are sharp of beak they are wise enough to know that we are sharp of claw.



5 comments:

Goldie, Shade and Banshee said...

Only in my dreams...

~Goldie

Cat with a garden said...

Great tree-climbing skills!

quiltcat said...

Amazing picture! Around here the crows only go after the great winged cat (great horned owl) and a young, inexperienced red tail hawk who didn't know better than to avoid their attention. Then again, they don't get to see any ginger cats in trees around here. When we were indoor/outdoor cats, only Sylvie was a good tree climber, and she could climb quite high. The only birds who ever yelled at her were the bluejays, and she just puffed up her tail and yelled back at them.

Griffin said...

I love the crows cackling, but keeping a respectful distance. I think of the crows as philosophers tho', rather than clerics. They ask, in French, 'Quoi?' - but answer comes there none, except another 'Quoi?' from another black-coated philosopher.

meemsnyc said...

Those are great photos!!