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Book of Days

BOOK OF DAYS: A POET AND NATURALIST TRIES TO FIND POETRY IN EVERY DAY

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August 8: Curiosity

Kristen Lindquist

This morning I looked out the window and saw three crows walking all around a dark patch on my neighbor's lawn. They were pecking at it and seemed genuinely very interested in the area. Wondering if it was a carcass of some kind (and worried for the neighbors' cats), I got out the binoculars. It turned out to be a rudimentary fire pit, about two by two, that our neighbors must have scraped out of the lawn to sit a grill on. The square looked to be mostly sooty dirt with some blocks of wood bounding the edges. The crows were apparently just checking it out, this new little dead patch on the lawn where they often graze. Perhaps they even found little pieces of charred hotdog or burger fat to snack on.

I was reminded of how our cat used to focus on the slightest little change or addition to the house. If I moved a plant, the next time she was in the room she'd be over there sniffing the pot. If I set something on the floor, she'd make a beeline for it. She burned her whiskers off once checking out floating candles in a bowlful of water. I always admired her attentiveness to her surroundings, even if it sometimes got her into trouble. Maybe that's why the crows do their exploring in threes, to spread the risk.

Even the crows are
entertained by a cookout,
though they arrived late.