Facing the music

There are two crows (or maybe ravens?) living near the front of the house where I live. One of them - I call it a male - looks like he’s hunched into a cloak. If you walk towards him, he remains on the fence until the very last minute, and then slides into the sky without any obvious effort.

I looked at him the other day and thought: That crow is doing everything it’s supposed to do. It’s doing everything a crow should. He knows instinctively what needs to be done and then he does it. The perfect creature.

In contrast, my life seems like a stupid mess. I grasp at this and totter towards that and am never sure about anything. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, or who I’m supposed to be, or what anything means, ever. Did I leave myself behind somewhere? Am I waiting somewhere up ahead? How is it that a crow knows exactly what to do, but I know exactly zippo?

I went through my CDs today, trying to find a theme tune for my so-far non-existent NaNoWriMo story, and discovered with a bit of a shock that there's hardly anything to choose from. Music can lift the top off my head with joy, but I haven’t bought anything musical for years, have I? No, of course not. I was sensible. I saved my meagre pennies for sensible necessary groceries.

Well, I’m learning my lessons, and here are today’s:

1. Stuff the groceries. You’re too fat anyway. Spend your life on the stuff you love, for God’s sake!

2. Be nice to crows. They're much smarter than you.