Twohundred

All the pictures of crows that I looked at, didn't quite match what I saw the other day. I even looked at ravens, just in case I was wrong about it being a crow. I asked my friend Jillian, a bird fanatic, if she had ever heard a crow make a different call or sing a different song than was normal.

I describe the subtle differences in the crow's features, to Jillian. It had brown tipped wings, a small stripe of red around its neck, and there was something about its eyes but I couldn't quite place it, just that they didn't seem right somehow. It was like the crow could see into me, read my thoughts or see my dreams.

When I described to Jillian the sounds the crow made, she said it sounded more like what a Rifleman might call, or a Fullvetta, neither bird being indigenous to North America. She said that the only thing that it could be, that related to how a crow could look but not how a crow sounded, would be the Black-lored Babbler, but that they were native to Africa. I suggested that maybe someone had brought it over to Canada, but Jillian didn't think customs would allow that.

We puzzled over it some more and finally Jillian came to the conclusion that she would just have to see it for herself. She also didn't think that the Babbler ever had a stripe of red around its neck, to the best of her knowledge. So we headed off to the park on the way to Sal's Milk Shop, where I had last seen this mysterious bird.

Of course, when we got there the bird was nowhere to be seen. I tried listening for it, but to no avail. Just when I bring in my bird expert, there's no bird to examine. Jillian said that we should walk around and see if we could find it and after an hour of searching, we still hadn't come across it. Jillian said if I happened upon it again I should call her, and she'd try to make it out this way when she could. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Haiku:

Never forgotten
Always in my memories
Keeping my thoughts warm.