FIELD NOTES (04/27/2017)

I dreamt of crows.

One in particular. In the dream I was feeding them from my roof-spot. In the dream there was some type of passage/blockage that had to be cleared, not unlike a windowsill, in order for me to feed them. So I was opening that and leaving food & also leaving coins. The coins were nickels, I think…Im aware that shiny objects are intriguing to corvids so I mustve incorporated that into the dream. There was one crow lingering just before I woke up – it was looking at me from up close as I cooed “hello bb! Hello bb! Hello bb!” The dream-crow looked @ me & left moments later.

I woke up. 6:22 am. Opened windowsill, to toss out some seed – at that very moment a big fat one was just landing on the roof next to me to investigate. A BIG one. The seed scattered on the roof as it relocated across the street, black wings beating like wind-whipped drums….rippling…crow relocated across street. Watched me. Continued to pour seed out. I closed the window & the crow left a few moments later.

So you should view this fleeting world: a star at dawn, a bubble in a stream, a flash of lightning in a summer cloud, a flickering lamp, a phantom and a dream. Went to get some strawberries from the freezer. A hint of snowfall – like a thin film of sleet, opaque yet perceptible (at least against the background of the street)…though after just moments of writing here it has shifted…a bit thicker. Again I look up & it has certainly begun to snow in late April. Wow. So gorgeous – hope the crow I scared off gets some roof-seed before it’s hidden.

field notes (4/23/2017)

First woke around 11:27am to what sounded like corvids. A LOT of corvids. My rotating fan was quite loud & my mind quickly reconnected the alleged crow cacophony with its original input signal-the sound of the fan. I lay facedown still half asleep, & was sad to only have imagined it. The thought of so many crows (the sound, rather) is what had jolted me out of sleep and out of bed, & I tried to forcibly allow myself to calm those adrenals atop my kidneys & return to unconsciousness. But then I was certain I was hearing them, & my heart exploded with urgency, & my skin prickled with excitement. I flew rapidly towards the foot of my bed to turn off the fan. And with the loudest and most opaque of signals now silent, rather than battering my eardrums with white noise, I could hear a quiet & clear symphony – at LEAST ten crows, yelling at each other.

It was a rather redeeming moment. Life right now feels quite tertiary in that none of the outward effort, energy, or regular and committed karmic seeds have had any form of positive or improved/bettered effect on my current standing. It seems there are valuable traits I exude sometimes…but it doesn’t often matter. Positive traits seem to matter for others but not for me- At least not right now. Frequently (almost daily) friends offer feedback that my attentiveness or time or support is of utmost and foundational importance to their well being. For a while that was nice to hear. But..planting personal values or watering my unnoticed and withered bits is hard work. And it feels like that work yields no sustenance in the form of recognition…In my own selfish and needy way it just feels like unpaid labor. There is always cognition: other humans do talk to me, & my family especially puts in forethought or attention in to their actions. Friends do sometimes think or engage with my thoughts or engagements without being prompted. But in my last relationship (especially) and in my current friendships whiny ol’ me feels like a farmer trying to run the show on his own & all without eating. No fruit for the farmer until the harvest? Or something. It’s sorta like I’m tilling the dirt and planting and watering but nothing is coming up in my own field – the neighbor’s field, sure. But no fruit in mine. And yes – the field is healthy, the table already has food on it (literally and figuratively). Life is okay. But in terms of income, interpersonal connection…it’s lonely to feel un-re-cognized. Super lonely. Especially while all of the people who are really important to me are quite literally spreading their wings to fly far away across the globe for their own well-earned adventures in self-discovery.
All’s to say even if the crows only come for the seed (BIRD seeds in the literal sense…ha) it is so immediately rewarding. It is so rewarding to coax these midnight missiles to my home, and to know that there is mutual benefit in their being here.

Having turned off the fan I could, in my sleepy & unclothed state, leap towards the window and peek outside without immediate concern of my phalanges being visible from the street. My attic window renders my lower bits nonviewable from the street, so in the interest of time I sent my hand on a life-or-death race to the venetian blinds of the west window. Aggressively sticking my hand between a pair of them, & opening a crevice to look outside, I didnt see much – but at that INSTANT the loud conversation just outside escalated to a collection of rhythmic screams. Their voices sometimes lined up in their pitter-pattering, forming the same illusory depth as the perceived connections in a large applause. Within half a second I could see through my hasty window-crack & saw they were not on the roof. The screaming of the birds startled me the half-second prior & I thus had no issue rapidly drawing the blinds in an attempt to get a glimpse of the source of my autonomic excitement.

And wow, did I see quite the something. Across the street no less than 12 or 15 crows (tried to count amidst my erotic panic) were desperately and forcefully exiting the tree, almost as if I had thrown a stone right towards them. They were banking up & around as to fly south away from the area, & I knew immediately at this moment – not 6 seconds after being asleep & horizontal – that I had scared them off. That seems to happen often. The elation and sorrow both were embodied. At no time recently, or ever, had such a clear response to my bird-feeding been sitting there. Apparent. Those birds are beautiful. But as far as me, I am a bit off-putting to them & I feel quite bad for rendering their moment an interrupted one. Next time, for their benefit (but also for the benefit of my behavioral/interspecies voyeurism) I will remember my mini-mantra:

FLIGHT > SIGHT

In essence this is a reminder that the real intent is to feed & sustain them; to contribute to their unhunger, to make this bit of life’s locality more sustaining and relaxing for them. To see or pester or talk to them is in itself (for the time being) outwardly aggressive & only serves my own enjoyment of the associated autonomic response. Yes, those corvids do stir me quite deeply, and I must remember that to stir them back is likely not at all enjoyable for them. As such they rapidly flew south towards Hague or perhaps Laurel. I lowered the blinds and blushed.