The scene is imprecisely trisected by two telephone lines. Upon these lines sit the crows of Odin, Hugin and Munin, Thought and Memory, although I think of them as Forethought and Afterthought, Prometheus and Epimetheus, Greek rather than Norse. They are no longer pictured above, although they are lurking, somewhere, in the background. I can hear them chattering to one another. I know I am being watched.
Forethought lands upon the upper line each Friday, Saturday, and Sunday around noon, while Afterthought hops about from branch to branch in a nearby tree, croaking out bits of encouragement to his brother. Forethought calls out to me, asking for slices of bread or tortilla shells. I oblige the two crows with bits of discarded food that were headed for the compost bin.
They may call upon our house on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, but the wife hasn't been watching for them, so she isn't sure if they show up on those days. But, each weekend day, when the sun is near its zenith, there they are, waiting for a few scraps, luring me outside with their throaty song.
No comments:
Post a Comment