Day 319: The Breakfast Bunch polished up the dog kibble I'd spread on the Crow Board, then dispersed into the fog to take up various positions in Clyde's yard, hopeful for a presentation of the dessert menu. Some perched on treetops or branches, some patrolled the ground. Some wiser folk selected fenceposts where they could keep a watchful eye on both feeding stations in case I happened to bring out seconds as I sometimes do. Thin dawn light gave a blush to the mist, rendering the canvas of an August morning into a natural monochrome, and this Crow's Eye was drawn to one young sentinel who profiled himself against the pasture. "Caw!" he said as I closed the door, and when I turned around, he'd flown off to join the growing gathering of his kindred somewhere out of my line of sight. Clyde must have put out something tasty.
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