A Murder of Crows

I’m sitting in my study staring out of the window and trying to think of the next sentence.  There are crows out on the road and in the playground opposite.  I’m just thinking what on earth can crows find to eat over there when I hear the familiar cry of alarm from the male blackbird.  A few moments later that fledgling flutters to the ground near a climbing frame.

‘Stupid bird,’ I think.  ‘Why don’t you run into the thorn bushes near bye?’

But it’s not that clever and after one half hearted dodge, the crows have it.  The blackbird flies around making a racket but is not brave enough to attack the group, who fight over the dying fledgling. A teenage boy passes through the playground eyes straight ahead, oblivious to the drama going on right next to him.  One crow makes to fly off, but is intercepted and drops its half eaten lunch.  The next thing that I see is the cat next door running out of the playground with the remains in it’s mouth.  All that effort by the blackbirds just to provide lunch for a crow and a cat.

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