The Crow that said Wow.
Near this place is a park, in the park is an aviary and sitting large and magnificent is a huge black Crow. The Crow that said Wow.
This is an extremely clever crow, a veritable Einstein amongst Crow's. Crow are, of course amongst the most intelligent of birds, not Owls, and their patron Athena, who are really quite stupid. Some Crow can even count up to six. Scientists have proved this under laboratory conditions.
Our Crow was far beyond even this amount of intelligence, for this was a magic, or magick crow. A prince of the bird world if truth be told.
Trouble is when he told anybody, no one would believe him. Not being the modest type, a common failing among aristocrats, he told everyone. Every bird in the aviary, all the local animals, squirrels, rabbits and the like that came to feed on the seed that dropped through the wire.
Even the odd human being that walked past although; of course they would take no notice.
WOW! He would croak at the top of his voice to attract attention.
“Listen to that silly bird”, they would say.
Silly bird indeed, he would think and fly off into a corner to have a royal sulk.
Mind you he was still quite high up in the pecking order. For all that the birds and animals found him strange and boring. The pecking order is what tells you who is Boss in the avian world, at least.
He was indeed a veritable encyclopedia of avian knowledge. Of course he acted as magistrate, officiated at all and I do mean all ceremonies. Was Godfather to all children born around or in the aviary, commissioner for oaths and general everyday factotum.
So even without being given his royal due he had made himself quite important and everyone called him Lord, at least to his face. Which made him feel somewhat better.
Somedays he would still feel sad. Sad for the days when he could fly, free and high above his home moors in the clear blue air with the wind biting at his pinions, master of all he surveyed.
Sitting on his sad lonely perch, peering out through the wire he would cry. Quietly so no one else would know. To let anyone see him cry would be simply too much. They all knew anyway but where polite enough not to say.
He would dream away the hours through the long/short grey winter days dreaming of high places.
Oh what it would be to fly again. To feel the air rushing. To catch breath on the wind. This was what he missed most
So naturally his thoughts turned to escape. He pondered long and hard on this but could see no avenue of opportunity. A thousand ideas were drawn up, planned and decided upon only to be seen as unfeasible in the bright light of day.
It was always perhaps this, or perhaps that as he drew with a stick in the soft sand at the bottom of the cage. (He being a very clever Crow, remember).
Time passed in this manner until one long/short winter’s day a small boy came to play snowballs around the aviary.
The boy thought it tremendous fun to throw his freezing balls of snow through the wire at the birds inside.
This frightened the timid finches and sparrows, of course as it would. It would be like a boulder the size of your house flying towards you only lozenge shaped because of the cage you see.
So much did it frighten that a deputation brought a petition to his Lordship the Crow.
Now of course, you must realize that this was not a written petition as you or I would understand it. It was more sung and chirped but it had the same effect.
“WOW!” said the Crow, impatient to be back to his three thousandth escape plan. “What is it?”
“Well-tweet…” said the erstwhile leader of the finches nervously, the sparrow spokesperson having fainted on the spot and was busy lying still and getting a covering of snowballs.
“Er…tweet, chirrup….er tweet. We were wondering…. Er tweet, whistle nervous cough”
“Oh will you get on with it WOW?” Said the Crow as the finches disintegrated into a nervous rabble of tweeting and chirruping feathers.
The Crow that said WOW! Part 2 What happened next.
“Ye gods will you tell me what you want, WOW?” bellowed the Crow to the twittering, chirruping fluttering crowd of feathers that seemed to be everywhere.
He bellowed because he was becoming angry, so angry that he would be going very red in the face, if of course crows could go red in the face, which of course they can’t.
“WOW!” He shouted again going very dark/deep colour, not red in the face.
This was obviously too much for all the finches and many of them fluttered back to perches only to be pelted with diamond shaped bits of snow again.
One plucky little Java finch was not to be beaten however, and pulling himself up to his full three inches/ several cm and fluffing out his tail feathers in an attempt to make himself appear bigger/ less size afflicted, he began.
“Your….tweet…..Lord….tweet….ship”
Oh hell, not again thought the Crow.
“Ok, pull yourself together and tell me what you want. WOW!” the Crow said in a final attempt to be reasonable. “Look I can feel your fear from here, every Cat/predatory animal in the neighbourhood will be round any minute to see what the fuss is all about”.
Surprisingly the little finch did as it was told. It straightened up, puffed up its little/less large chest and looked visibly stronger.
Cough “Your LordCrowship” he began presuming that flattery is good for pacifying, (It is, no fool this Finch) The Crow was ready to pounce on any show of nervousness now and began looming.
“There is this boy/young human sire” (and tweet, but he couldn’t help it)
“A boy, yes” loomed the Crow.
A deep breath and “ Yes and he is throwing snow at us, frightening us”.
“Stare him out, laddie, don’t you know anything?” said himself advocating an age-old Crow method for disturbing enemies.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the wherewithal for, (tweet) any of that your crowship”
“Wherewithal now that is an interestin word” Crow had a habit of leaving words unfinished whenever he got excited, which as you probably have gathered was quite a lo
“Not heard that since, wind know when, very London England that. Old, I like old, didn’t know that did yer, WOW!/? Slap me claws and call me Corvidae/Nigel, I’ve really taken a fancy….”
“Er…(tweet) the boy your darkness”
“Boy, WOW, what boy is that wherewithal?”
“The boy that is pelting us with snow, yourcrowyness, ifnyouplease”.
“Now that is something it most definitely doesn’t, wherewithwhat. Thought we had agreed to stare the blighter out, ain’t we”.