“The raven swooped down and collided directly with my window, leaving a huge crack where it impacted. It flew around in a large circle and was heading in for a second attack…..”

I dropped my cup from my hand, grasping to catch it and missing, then watched, distraught, as it squashed my prized piece of cake.

What on earth could be going on? Was there some form of apocalypse?

“Here Mills”, I called to the dog and opened the patio door. Immediately the small dog, scampered into the garden and launched her threatening bark which usually worked with most birds, but the Corvid ignored her, returned to a nearby fence panel and watched.

Within a few minutes, Mills had ran into the glass patio doors too?

Crow Image by Sue Vincent

“What the F-?” Standing up, I made my way to the garden, the Corvid, did not flinch, its dark eyes glistening in the daylight. I glanced at the doors. Mills charged around at my feet, barking madly, no sign of the pneumonia, she had suffered in winter. The raven cawed behind me.

Then from the corner of my eye, I spotted it. In the ancient, scruffy birdbox, lovingly added above our patio doors many years before, but now aging and forgotten, a young fledgeling emerged. Mills went wild, once more, and the great raven spread his wings ready to take flight.

“No”, I shouted. Then pulled Mills inside. Nature seems to have worked out the ending already. She does not need humans interfering & messing things up. I believe that everything balances out in the end…But I do not need to witness it.

Inside, I scraped my cake into the bin and poured my tea down the sink. For some reason, I was no longer hungry.

Written in response to:

AuthorWorld — First lines

Ragtag Daily Prompt — Pneumonia

Pensitivity’s three things challenge – Appeal – Prize – Squashed

I am always fascinated by Corvids. They are always such cool, calculated creature who rarely seem to ruffle their feathers. Over the years we have had many of them visit our garden, at present, it is a magpie with a broken foot. Sadly, the main attraction seems to be the fledgelings that have set up home in our various trees and bushes. Nature has its own ways.

KL ❤