the crow
the crow

the crow

This morning as the wind whisked powdered sugar snow around my office window, I spied a black crow roosting on the roof next door.  Rather than bragging at the top of its lungs, it seemed to be whimpering a low cry.

I sat and watched that ol’ crow for a minute.  I will admit, crows aggravate me sometimes because they are so loud and brash–their screeches piercing the silence unnerves me.  I’m not patient with them or tolerant of them when they harass other animals in my yard.  I might even have been known to take my biggest spatula and bang it on a metal cookie sheet to scare them away.

This morning, however, I sat in my chair and watched that crow–its silhouette so definitive against the dusty blue sky.  I witnessed another side to that creature–a place of vulnerability and humility atypical of its nature.

In that moment, I was reminded that each of us carries a vulnerable place in our soul–perhaps those that are the loudest or most brash are the ones who most fear exposing this tender side.

crow vintage

crow sepia

crow negative

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