frens

Two crows were drop­ping a nut from the tele­phone wire try­ing to get it to crack.

When I ap­proached it, they got a lit­tle skit­tish but then they saw me stomp­ing it with the heel of my foot.

I suc­cess­ful­ly cracked it open and pried it apart, then walked away. They swooped down and start­ed eat­ing the inside.

Al­though, maybe they weren’t skit­tish. They dropped it right in front of me and then sat there look­ing at me. Maybe I did ex­act­ly what they want­ed me to do.

Any­way now I have some crow frens.

So I got that go­ing for me. Which is nice.

—emi­ly duchaine

Flom­mist Emi­ly Duchaine lives in the Pa­cif­ic North­west. She likes to drink mead, learn about sharks, and lis­ten to the Talk­ing Heads. She pre­tends to be a pro­fes­sion­al busi­ness­woman most days. Copy­right © 2020 Emi­ly Duchaine. Pic­tured: Vin­cent van Gogh, Wheat­field with Crows (de­tail), 1890, source.

MOR D’ARTÍCULOS  MOR FLOMM !

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