Montpelier is a fine little city, set in the valley of the Winooski River, surrounded by hills and ridges.
I was waiting, loitering in the streets of town.
I looked up to the heights all around.
And saw scores of crows.
Busy, active crows.
Crows like the ridges around Montpelier. Here are some, on a fine, warm fall afternoon. Their hangout is the dead tree on the right. The air above is their kingdom.
Crows are clever critters.
The correct collective noun, or term of venery, for a group of crows is a “murder” of crows. Why a “murder” of crows? It’s beyond my ken. Crows are fine, smart, social animals. Want to learn more about crows and the corvid family? Try Bernd Heinrich’s book, “Ravens in Winter”, or Candace Savage’s “Bird Brains”. There’s a murder of good corvid books out there.
The crows like to come down into Montpelier.
A crow checks out the city.
Montpelier has plenty of spires and towers for curious crows.
The sentient sentinel.
High places, from which to notice things.
High places to fly from, to go see what has been seen….
Your murder of crows reminds me of one that stopped traffic (foot traffic) while I was at an art fair in Tustin, CA a year ago. Suddenly people started noticing the exorbitant number of crows circling ahead. Of course like true sheep, once one of us looks up and points, we all do. More and more crows gathered and then someone noticed that the bird at the center of the flock was a raptor. Too high up for anyone of us to identify in greater detail, the crows circled, cawed and harrassed the undesirable visitor for probably 10 minutes until it glided away; then they gradually dissipated and the sheep returned to their sore necks.