Cousin Fred here had been perched contentedly in the top of a favored tree until I went out the door with his breakfast, camera slung around my neck. I thought to get a portrait or a profile before heading back inside, but as soon as he saw the meal I'd laid out, he launched headlong toward it, rewarding me with this abstract view of perfect downbeat wings.
Crows often guide me, both literally and symbolically. Fred, bless his buttons, taught an excellent seminar on motion-blur photography.
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