Antisocial Media

Elizabeth's comment to my previous post makes me feel like I should write a little more about what that crow meant to me. I want to write my thoughts about it before I read Leon's book, just to put out my own thoughts on the matter before involving another's thoughts. I knew that crow would follow me within the first few seconds after I heard and saw it. I knew that it wouldn't follow me past the freeway underpass. And I knew that it was important for me to listen to it, even though I didn't understand why, or what it was trying to communicate. In Norse myth, Odin the All-Father is accompanied by two crows who travel the world, reporting back to him. They are one source of his fabled knowledge and wisdom. When I stood in the alley/pedestrian walkway between Oak Grove Ave. and Claremont, listening to the loud crow, I wasn't at all surprised when the second crow landed on the tree across from the first. It was almost as if the first noisy and insistent crow ...

I just got back from a jog around the neighborhood. I ran out to College Ave. and just after I'd turned around and was heading home a crow flew in front of me, cawing lustily, and up onto the telephone wires. I kept running, and after I'd gone just a few steps, the crow flew down from its perch, still cawing, to a tree branch ahead of me. We leapfrogged like this for a block. I turned a corner into a pedestrian walkway between blocks, and stopped when the crow followed me, still cawing down at me from a pine tree. I looked up at the crow, trying to understand what was going on in its head, but it just kept cawing, glancing down at me occasionally, and flying from branch to branch every so often. Another crow flew up, silent as the first was loud, and took in the scene. When that one flew off after a minute, I decided to keep running. The first crow followed me through the walkway, across and down the street, and around the corner, still cawing. When I got to the Highway ...