Sitting on the front yard bench, Sheba inspecting the perimeter of the yard, smelling over night visitors, following trails of a stray rodent, a moth flutters between her paws as it rises from the grass that lays as a charcoal green carpet, a spangly rose bush untrimmed reaches to the cement grey arch over the sidewalk.
Blackberry brambles back lit by Cedar, Madrona, Fir hold the last midnight blue below them, above light begins its turn for day.
Rain drips from leaves like applause as the light stirs shadows out of the pockets.
Crow’s and Blue Jays continue their struggle over territory,
A single crow draws one of the Jays out of its nest, caw’s and scrambles as it appears the Jay has the upper hand of the crow, 3 crows attack the nest, the remaining adult flee, as two chase it away, the last crow plucks a baby out of the nest, drops it, then grabs another and flies away.
Jays and Crows scream at each other as the drama of the battle ends.
Sheba has made her way back and sits next to me on the bench, her wide eyes watch the Crows as they fly over us towards their nest in a back-yard Tree.
The streetlight across the street goes dark, the rain becomes a pour as I climb the stairs to the door, closing behind us.
Transit Transients and Other Stories 