I can’t see a crow, even one in the Sacramento Delta in California, without thinking of my friend Penny Thieme.  

Penny seems to have the same watchful, gentle eye of these creatures.  Her gaze holds that of her companion.  Soup could scorch in the pan.  Sirens might wail. Penny focuses on the person who sits with her.  Coffee grows cold as the conversation intensifies.  These Delta crows seem to follow me.  They study me from their perch.  I do not know what message they bring, but I think I know the sender.

Though nothing went amiss today, and for this lovely day in northern California, I have no regrets, I leave you with one of my most cherished poems:

Dust of Snow
BY ROBERT FROST

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

It’s the twenty-fourth day of the sixty-fourth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.

Note:  I took these images of a single crow perched atop a tree which stood about 100 feet tall.  I was across a five-acre section of the Park, on the diagonal, using my Canon with its fixed lens extended to its fullest zoom capacity.  Please forgive the quality of the photos. Enjoy.