THE LAND NORTH OF SUPERIOR

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It was cold.  Winter had settled in and draped the landscape in her white mantle.  The air almost burned the lungs as one walked.  The crackle crunch underfoot told the real story as we all waited patiently for the sun to warm this land north of Superior.<o:p></o:p>

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A large black shape settled gracefully to it’s perch and hunkered down to protect it’s legs and feet from the biting cold.  After a few moments it lifted it’s beak and called into the hazy blue sky, it’s head swivelling about as it scanned for enemies and food in this hostile environment.    It was only a short while and a second, even slightly larger, black shape glided to a perch beside it.  Both birds had their feathers flicking and twisting in the cruel winds of a mid February day.  They moved closer together.  Now two headed turned constantly, surveying this bleak place they called home.   It was some time later when first one, then the other, launched from the perch and glided from my view in seconds as some important appointment obviously needed to be kept.<o:p></o:p>

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The air was filled with angry swarming black darts.  First one then another would fall from the sky and swing off at the last possible moment from their foe.  At times two or even three would make attacks at the same time.  Their plan had evolved over the past forty thousand years.  It was a truly David and Goliath match as the tiny swallows kept up their battle to drive the pair of huge crows from their perch.  The crows for their part ducked if one came too close, or ruffled a wing at another one.  They were not enjoying the attentions of these pesky missiles as they surveyed their surroundings.  A time or two it looked as if they would lift off and drive their tormentors off, but they stayed on the perch.  The morning sun was now well in the sky and it’s warmth spread across the land.  With a sudden lazy fall both of the big birds took wing and in but a few wing beats had lifted from out of my vision.   The tiny swallows all but disappeared as they resumed their nesting.<o:p></o:p>

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Daylight were slower coming even though afternoon temperatures soared into the nineties.  Often not a breath of air stirred.  First one then the other of the big birds settled down to perch.   There was space between them, maybe an effort to cool off.  The smaller hopped even further away and turned it’s back on it’s mate.  The sky was scanned by both birds as was the ground around the perch, it was time to feed hardy before the cooler days and even frosty nights sent many food sources under ground or even south.  The swallows that had tormented them a few months ago now swooped and snaked across the skies in clouds.  They hardly even glanced at the monstrous black birds on the perch that earlier had been all together too near to their nesting sites.  The two, now left in peace, in turn ignored the flaring black sheets of swallows at play.<o:p></o:p>

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There was a seagull on the perch.  He ruffled his wings and did some early morning grooming.   Others of his kind were in the air too.  Wings spread to catch the small updrafts they glided about, eyes peeled to the ground for anything that might be consumable.  Restlessly shuffling from one foot to the other the lone gull ignored the flight of swallows that played in a never ending game of follow the leader.  In a heart beat the gull had lifted off.  Just a split second later one of the large black birds flared and settled down; right where the gull had been a moment ago.  Several wing beats later the second arrived.  The seagull would have had scant space indeed between the two owners of this perch.<o:p></o:p>

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It was getting onto quarter after eight in the morning as I watched the news on TV; my coffee cup was half empty.  From the corner of my eye I noticed the light flicker off on the light meter equipped street lamp just outside my living room window.  With one eye on the anchorman talking of yet another car bombing I waited as I did often now.  I waited for Heckle and Jeckle, as I had named them many months earlier, to show for their morning look at my part of the world.  Almost as if on cue the larger of them, Heckle, settled on the long armed light fixture and Jeckle was a wing beat behind.  The two birds, so black detail was hard to see, crouched down shoulder to shoulder for whatever heat the other could provide.  Was it my imagination or had they lost weight in the 3 month span since the snow had come, it was impossible to be sure.  This morning as every morning since the cold had settled in they didn’t stay long, it could be the brushed metal may have been too cold for their feet.  They lifted off in their normal casual fall and several wing beats later they were gone from the view my window gave me.  I knew however that they would be back tomorrow morning again.<o:p></o:p>

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One doesn’t have to travel far in the land north of Superior to find fascinating creatures.  One does need to have the ability to look and see, the most mundane of them can provide hours of enjoyment as they live their day to day lives.<o:p></o:p>