Even the Crows are Doing It
October 16th 2006 11:19
On Friday, I went up to school to hand in my thesis. On my way back out to the bus, there was a crowd of people standing, mouths agape, looking into this one tree.
Like all good rubbernecks, I walked by, trying to look into the tree while maintaining a reasonable level of subtly.
Two giant crows are chasing this possum, pecking at it and pulling at it's tail. (note: Australian crows are bigger than their Canadian cousins, have white eyes rather than red, and are mentally unstable).
This possum refuses to run away. It kept darting around in the tree, going out onto the tips of branches, looking as though it wanted to jump onto the grass and run away, but then would race back into the centre of the foliage, only to get pecked again.
It must have had babies in the tree, or some other valid reason to keep going back for more pecking. Most sentient beings have an innate response: something is trying to peck you to death, you run away.
The narcissistic part of me wondered if this scene was a sign, had something to do with the quality of the paper I had just submitted. The more reasonable part keeps wondering why the possum didn’t just run away. Sometimes (like when death by pecking in immanent) that is the best option.
Like all good rubbernecks, I walked by, trying to look into the tree while maintaining a reasonable level of subtly.
Two giant crows are chasing this possum, pecking at it and pulling at it's tail. (note: Australian crows are bigger than their Canadian cousins, have white eyes rather than red, and are mentally unstable).
This possum refuses to run away. It kept darting around in the tree, going out onto the tips of branches, looking as though it wanted to jump onto the grass and run away, but then would race back into the centre of the foliage, only to get pecked again.
It must have had babies in the tree, or some other valid reason to keep going back for more pecking. Most sentient beings have an innate response: something is trying to peck you to death, you run away.
The narcissistic part of me wondered if this scene was a sign, had something to do with the quality of the paper I had just submitted. The more reasonable part keeps wondering why the possum didn’t just run away. Sometimes (like when death by pecking in immanent) that is the best option.
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