I think someone is flirting with me. He’s sleek and real smooth. I don’t just love him because he’s black. Or because he watches me when I’m not looking. It’s a quaint flirtation.
I go for my 2 mile walk in the evening. I am usually eyes down in a book (yes, I do read and walk….and despite the many times I’ve been asked how, I really don’t have an answer!). Curled up in my right hand is the top of a Ziploc baggie. Inside is an assortment of goodies; peanuts in shells, cheerios, bread…whatever is on hand. I get to one of two of my landmarks. I look up and there he is. Pretending not to see me now. Or knowing that I can’t see exactly what his eyes are looking at since they are also camouflaged by his darkness. I say hi, tell him what I have for him. Then throw it down on the ground. I talk for a moment more, then walk off. I won’t look behind me until I’m a safe distance away. When I turn around eventually, he’ll be eating the goods. He saw me. He knew what I was doing.
When I come around the stretch, I look over into the horse pasture and see Crow there. He notices me and lifts off, flying past me on my right and perches to see if it’s still true. Is it true? Of course it’s true. Every time I see you. The familiar sound of the baggie opening, my hand grasping the edibles while I speak to him. Then I toss them down and tell him to enjoy. He and Red Winged Blackbird consult. I walk off, continuing with my book, knowing that in this little courtship ritual, I will turn around in about 30 seconds to see if he is enjoying my gifts.
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