There is a poignant painting by Georgia O'Keeffe completed after her husband, Alfred Stieglitz died in 1946, of a lone crow flying over a bare landscape, a metaphor of his death and her loneliness or freedom afterwards. Crows fascinate me, not that that has always been true-they sure seemed more of a pest than anything-loud and obnoxious but so intelligent and social. They can usually give away a hunters hidden position or lead to a dead carcass. I've come to respect them-their freedom, playfulness smarts and carefree life. There was a sick crow hanging around the woods here this fall-I felt bad for "him"...perhaps he had West Nile disease or some other injury that prevented him from flying. He'd just appear and I'd see him hopping around for several weeks and never knew what became of him.
I decided to experiment a little after gun season when I moved a found yearling deer carcass to an open spot on a field. There was good ground cover nearby and thought maybe I'd get some photographs of an eagle, coyote or wolf. Well, the crow became the number one subject-I should have known. This first photograph is just crazy with the silhouettes and wing position of the crows-you can almost hear their raucous calls.
Forever and ever amen.
5 hours ago