Of Crows and Fools

This morning, I was leaving my driveway when I spotted a crow on my neighbor's unsightly stump of a Sandy victimized tree. I stopped my backwards progress, moved the car from reverse to park and watched for a moment.  I might mention here that crows fascinate me.  They are a tad blander and smaller than their more mysterious raven kin, but they do exhibit personality.  They are often overlooked because of their uniform dark coloring; but if you look close enough, their simple black feathers show iridescence. They are sizable, but not menacingly so...just a bit like a black football on spindly legs.  They also love to talk; squawking among themselves and in packs.

The crow in question was busying itself by pulling on the root of the overturned, sawed down tree. The crow would pull, and pull some more.  The root in question offered no indication that it wasn't firmly attached, yet this crow was determined.  Maybe that is why I watched so long...a fascination with its foolhardiness. To my eyes, there appeared to be plenty of perfect sized twigs lying just under this stump.  Why was this crow wasting so much energy on this one particular root?  Couldn't it see its own blunder?

And this is where I laughed outright...at the crow and at myself.  I smiled and bit my lip as I wondered how many activities I pursue that look equally inane from the outside.  How often have I tugged at roots when simpler, just as satisfactory solutions lay littered around my feet?

And I too love to talk; squawking alone and in packs.

In theory, my brain is larger and therefore more developed than my crow friend.
In theory...