So I asked the raven as he passed by,
I said, “Tell me, raven, why’d you make the sky?”
“The moon and stars, I threw them high,
I needed someplace to be flying.”
– Kiya Heartwood, from “Wyoming Wind”
(via Charles de Lint’s Someplace to be Flying)
The other day I went for a walk with my parents around Green Lake, just as the sun was starting to go down. It was gray, and chilly, and the pathway was crammed with people out walking. Meanwhile, the trees were filled — filled — with crows. Like, several hundred crows, cawing and moving from tree to tree in great flocks.
It was kind of creepy and kind of beautiful, all those monochromatic grays and blacks and the raucous noise over the water, caught between Hitchcock and de Lint and Cooper.