mánudagur, september 12, 2005

í horni

Clatter in the jays this morning. One is standing on the roofline of the next house, crest up, looking offended. The crows, too, are in greater disarray than usual. Between their cawings and croakings the cause of this unrest is audible. In one of the trees nearby there is a young hawk. I can hear him, and so can the local corvids, but I cannot see him.

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