Now be patient with me- the crow flies straight and true, but how he teaches his wisdom is anything but.
My life is really busy. Not only do I have a ton of things to do (and I rarely finish 80% of them), but things happen constantly. We make plans, we change our plans, we realize we need special things for our plans, we check our money, someone gets an idea, we converge and discuss, we adjust, we arrive late, we get phone calls, we realize we forgot dinner. Then we come home and discover one of the dogs has knocked over the trash. As I sweep up the last of the coffee grounds, one of the children will announce that he has no clean socks for school. The next morning, the other child will inform me that he has no clean pants.
Along the way I see crows. I see what I think are juvenile crows- shiny black, strutting walk, bobbing head just like a crow, only smaller. I see crows flying, I see them strutting along the edges of parking lots to steal French fries. I see them stealing all things bright and shiny from the yard, the bits of broken toys, Will's dropped sockets, and marbles.
I get up, herd the boys out the door, start laundry. I clean, cook, run errands, and carve out time to sew. And all day I hear the crows cawing through my open windows.
The crows perch on the power lines. They watch me. They let me see them. They wait.
The boys want to know what is for dinner. I tell them, fish heads and rice. With frozen monkey brains for dessert. Now they've stopped asking. "Fish heads and rice?" they inquire as they peer into pots.
Will brings me presents, small things, a book, a new knife, beads for crafts. The boys bring me flowers from the yard. The crows present mates with stolen socket set pieces.
I see the crow flapping into the air. He always flies true, never loses sight of where he is going. Along the way he stops to squawk and steal.
There is no normal life, there's just life.