With the Ottauquechee down a bit, four crows, cawing loudly, strolled along the river's edge. One or two stood in the shallows and leaned over to drink, a new sight for me for a crow. A few weeks ago when again the water was quiet and lower, robins did the same thing, although they also bathed. The crows moved up and along the left bank, as if patrolling, and one then flew to a nearby maple, his sharp black form contrasting with the faded red, yellow and blue Tibetan prayer flags fluttering in the morning's fresh breeze.
Last year, robins had made a nest under the rear eave of the Rectory shed. We enjoyed watching the nestlings grow larger, poking their open beaks upward. One morning we heard robins squawking and saw crows flying out of the yard, and the nest was empty.
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