You were only waiting for this moment to arise

It’s so easy to anthropomorphise.

It’s that time of year, when the daffodils start to bloom, the blossom hangs along the bough and the little woodland creatures start fuck each other like… well like Rabbits. These activities aren’t confined to ground based creatures, the birds are at it too. This brings me to the birds in question, Crows. There has been a power struggle in the vicinity, and the Crows have been ousted from their preferred roost by a mob of delinquent Seagulls. The Crows, in turn, have ousted a rather timid group of Starlings from their nest site in our eaves. The problem we have is that Crows are a fair bit bigger than Starlings and have been busy remodelling the cavity between our dining room and the outside wall. Like feathery scroats, they are bold because they know I can’t fly after them… damn their intelligence. We had only a short window of opportunity to block their entrance before they nested and laid. Tonight the hole is blocked and their nocturnal philanderings will remain, like the rest of the furry hoard, outdoors.

I should explain. The dining room is actually now my office, I annexed it in the summer of 2009, and it’s been getting steadily untidier by the day. The noise of the Crows digging and pecking was becoming annoying. Couple that with my tinnitus and I was ready for a nervous breakdown. The Crows mocked me, waiting till I sat back down and started working, before sneaking back and starting up the jack hammer again.

Observing the whole thing, like some kind of aloof broadsheet critic, is the lonely Wood Pigeon. He’s been here for around three years, and in all that time has never had a mate. He must watch the Crows and Seagulls as they flit from cluster fuck to cluster fuck, like feathered Casanovas. The lonely Wood Pigeon remains, like Poe’s Raven.

Like I said, it’s easy to anthropomorphise.