December 1: A-tap-tap-tapping

Sometimes I think that I could just post every day about what the crows are up to. They're a fascinating--if enigmatic--study. And as I wrote yesterday, they're always there. Like right now, a crow across the river's tapping at something. Is it trying to break something open, perhaps an acorn from one of the surrounding oaks? Is it trying to pry something out of the frozen ground? Is it eating something off a tablecloth of dead leaves? Is it playing percussion in some crow performance? I'll never know, but I'm sitting here with my mug of chai, watching, absorbed.

One crow, now two, peck
at the ice-fringed riverbank.
A few snowflakes fall.