South

The visitors have all left now, even the Fulmars, who still have open water to play in, at least for a day or two. The Ravens now have the town to themselves, and although there are others who will stay all winter it is mostly the ravens who will be around to entertain. But if I had to pick only one bird to be with for several months I can’t think of a better one than this prince of birds.

They seem to have taken over the air above the House. With its roof lines and height it must make for some interesting, playful currents for they are almost always there, soaring over the peak, and around the edges.  Often I see them from a second floor window, looking down at them as they break around a corner. The peak is theirs, my once beautiful metal roof that sits below the peak is testament to that. They seem to fancy the peak at the back of the house.

Earlier while siding the last of the big blue wall at the peak of the house, one landed up there, a mere four feet above my head. He watched me as I worked, not in the least concerned of my proximity. His eyes never left me, and mine left him only when I needed to see what I was doing or where I was putting my step. He stayed until I left, confident in the fact that even if I wanted to harm him, he ruled his perch and more importantly the air above it.

So my constant avian companion is one of my favourite birds, not the harbinger of death as he is so often portrayed, but the playful, spirited, glossy trickster that he is.  Soaring as he pleases, for his pleasure and, quite incidentally, for mine.