They barter from such canopies.
Broccoli framed or cauliflower shaped.
Grey hammer beaks, solid steel looking.
Grouped with the crows, a black sea of
different waves, a dragons tail wafting,
whacking away the pursuers.
They are falling from the mouth of mother
nature. Coughed up, tumbling away
into the trees. I watch the cloud disperse, run,
fly, gallop away along the fields.
Winter going, cauldron black feathers
flickering wet dew off the rain lashed earth.
A gang of birds, amok, lawless, nest
building. Illegal landowners taking up
the trees body for themselves.
By Gareth Culshaw
Gareth lives in North Wales. He loves the outdoors especially Snowdonia. He is published in various magazines across the U.K. Visit his website here.
Photo of Rook at rookery by parvatti
For more information on Rooks at the Internet Bird Collection, click Here