The Best Part of Any Morning

Italian Cypress trees are a common feature in the valley. Rising high, tall and spindly. They seem to be decorative. Ornamental. I can’t imagine they are companion plants for anything. But what do I know? I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever been put in charge of.

There is a brilliant row of these towering arboreal features that sit within view of my bedroom window. As the sun rises at the start of each new day, I open my eyes to see these trees framed by the mountains in the distance. Morning glow appearing from behind the hills. I feel like it has to be good for you to start your day off staring at trees. And hills. And nature. But most of all the serenity of this natural scene is undercut by a comedy that I never tire of.

As plentiful as the trees are, crows abound more. Big, chunky, dark as the night. These crows are intimidating creatures to me. If a crow developed awareness of proper fighting technique versus humans without tools then I would wager on the crow every time. They have the ultimate power of flight. They have a beak that is long and pointed and appears to be densely solid. I picture in the worst case scenario a crow repeatedly dive-bombing its human victim. At the bottom apex of every dive the crow delivers a beak to the eye with pinpoint accuracy. A couple of passes and the human would be toast. At least their vision would be. Crows are supposedly amongst the smartest of birds. I don’t think they’re smart enough to realize just what a threat they could be if they took the time to drill some proper technique.

But crows, as previously mentioned, are also chunky as can be. And they need somewhere to chill. So in the morning, as I slowly pry my eyes open using nothing but the kinetic energy in my eyelids combined with willpower, I often see one of these murder-birds encircling an Italian Cypress looking for a landing spot from which it can survey the surroundings. These trees look like an ideal spot. So thin that it peaks in a green needlepoint. A single serving space. There is only room for one bird up here and it’s not going to be one of the small cute ones. The crows have their hierarchy in the bird order locked down. They are fortunate there are not many bald eagles to be found around these parts.

The crow spies the target. A tall tree directly in my line of sight. It circles a few times sizing up trajectory and velocity for a landing. Like the natural world’s version of a harrier jet, to get on to the tip of this tree the crow must both land and take off in relative vertical fashion. There will be no run ups. But just as crows haven’t mastered attack techniques v humans, they have not mastered the concept of density. Archimedes is spinning in his bathtub. The crow comes in to land but it hasn’t accounted for the tip of the tree being made up of the fluffiest and least supportive material. It’s all greenery. There is no structural integrity here. No sooner than the crow has landed on the top point of the tree it is immediately engaged in a high-wire balancing act. Enough tree to grab on to but definitely not enough to provide any stability. It latches on with sharp talons but the slight forward momentum from coming in to land sends the unstable surface bending forward. Crows don’t have arms so don’t ask me how but it quickly attempts to rebalance to the opposite direction. No balance will be found. Back and forth like a circus performer the crow desperately tries to find its center. But the tree has been around much longer than you, crow, and it didn’t get to be the tallest and most bountiful by allowing interlopers to hang out whenever they want. It’s a losing battle for the crow. There is no happy median to be found. After a number of futile attempts to steady itself on the pinpoint of the tree the crow gives up and institutes emergency take off protocol to get out while it still can. Flying off into the morning to find a more stable perch or to just be on the ground with the other crows currently picking away at a defenseless lizard. Terrafirma has more surface area. It provides stability. The crow will find comfort in knowing the ground can support its chunky frame.

I am chuckling incessantly through this whole viewed experience. It really is a great start to the day in the valley.