November

Crows gather in the birch tree at the corner of the yard. It’s strategically located near water and food, tall enough to give the watchers a view over the creek basin below. When a hawk tries to loiter among the branches, spying unwary sparrows, the crows rally a posse and chacrow-novemberse it away. Even the solo crow assigned as a watcher will dart and dive to roust a raptor, while she calls for her tribe.

The birch tree is possibly 50 feet tall. The ice storm last December broke it. Through the summer I watched to see if it would muster enough canopy to survive. No, alas, it will come down in the next few days, cut into firewood lengths (though soft) and the scrap chewed up in a chipper.

There are other trees in the yard. November comes and all lets go to litter. One black crow perched on bare branches.

Without the shade and shelter of this birch, the little landscape is transformed.

Author: Kim K. McCrea

Kim K. McCrea worked for over 25 years as a Systems Analyst building out the internet of things before returning to literature and letters. In 2017, Kim won the Silver Creek Writers Residency/Treefort Wild West Prize for Creative Nonfiction, and was named a finalist in Proximity Magazine's 2017 Essay Prize competition. Kim attended the Robert D. Clark Honors College, and received her BA in English from the University of Oregon. She lives in Eugene, Oregon, where she wrangles her Labrador Retriever, Mercedes, and scouts for Great Blue Herons.

2 thoughts on “November”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s