Every year in mid November, the crows appear. They gather on power lines, and empty lots. On rooftops, lawns, in trees and on streetlamps. They don’t seem to be doing much, just waiting around. There must be a simple explanation for this, like some kind of seasonal tasty insect is in abundance, but I have neglected researching the answer. I like the mystery. I like taking walks and jogs, or riding my bike past them and wondering, “What are they doing here? What they are waiting for?”
Maybe like salmon, they’ve come to spawn and die. Maybe like in-laws and distant relatives, they are gathering for the holidays. Maybe like elephant seals they’ve come to molt and make love. Maybe they are organizing, protesting, picketing, or plotting. Maybe like clouds they have come together to cry.
All I know is that they are waiting. Waiting for what? They remind me of the surfers out at pleasure point, or steamers lane, waiting for the waves to roll in. Even if it doesn’t seem like there are any waves, the surfers still gather. Silently securing their positions and waiting for the waves to come. Covered in their black wet suits, silhouetted against the reflecting water. The crows remind me of surfers.
They say that Kelly Slater is the greatest surfer in the world. I believe it. If you had never heard of him before, or seen his picture, and you stood in front of him and stared into his eyes, you would know. They say he is part fish. I believe it too. I have tried to spot gills or fins on him, and was unable to, but I still know that some part of him is fish. I am not a surfer, but I am a fisherman. I have spent many summers in the mountains pondering rivers and catching fish with a fly rod. I have always marveled at fish.
You may ask, “If you love fish so much, why would you want to catch them?” Why do people put birds in cages? Why do we put anyone or anything in cages for that matter? I love to fly fish because I can become the fly and trick the fish into biting me.
Does Kelly Slater want to be all fish? If he went out surfing one day, and never came back, would he grow fins and gills and stay in the ocean forever?
If you could do anything, and I mean anything….what would it be? Most people would want to fly. Some people, maybe Kelly Slater, would want to breathe under water. Both answers represent freedom. Fish have no deadlines, lay offs or mortgages. Birds don’t care about fences, freeways, or parking spots. Both are free. The crows that gather here are free. So why do they choose to come here? What are they waiting for?