The Clever Unkindness of Ravens

The Clever Unkindness of Ravens

OOooh, ooh. Here comes another one. Steady, aim, fire! YES! The unsuspecting target looked up. Hahahaha. Caw, caw. The poor man wiped plumb spatter from his brow. “Damn birds,” he muttered.

Another, another! The branch shook as the big raven jumped up and down. He cocked his head and turned a beady black eye on the next target. No way she could've seen it coming. Splat. Screech! “You fucking bird!” The woman yelled.

His colors gleamed like an oil slick in the sun. Peering through the burgundy plum tree leaves, he saw them. An orange Tabby and a fluffy big Maine Coon. They were sprawled out for a bask in the sunshine. Splayed on the pavement to absorb the fading heat of late summer, they were situated perfectly. Close enough to watch each other. But not near enough to cause a problem.

Ooooh, oooh! Look at them. Yes, yes. He jumped off the branch, landing without so much as a wing flutter. Cocking his head to one side, he assessed the situation.

The raven decided an opportunity was at hand. He did a combination of hop and flutter to close in for better observation. Seemingly asleep in the sun, the two cats were at least a good five or six feet from each other. He peered at them one at a time, head tilted and eyes fixed. He seemed to be thinking something through.

He cocked his head again and scanned the space between the two cats. His searing steady gaze assessed the felines. The bird quickly glanced around the scene. A parking lot at the base of an apartment building. The plum tree he flew down from. The clear blue sky above. The rustle and thump of a few humans making their way from car to building.

The raven slowly hop-walked his way in a circle around the two. Cars whizzed past the parking lot. An airplane flew overhead. A slow, warm wind began to pick up. Burgundy leaves rustled in the breeze. The fluffy grey Maine Coons fur blew back enough to show his white undercoat. The orange Tabby just lay there.

The wind gusted. Another raven took his spot in the tree. Then another. Then another. Cacaw. Cacaw. They knew he was up to something. The chatter in the tree echoed with guttural clucks. They could hear the click-tap on the pavement as he hopped closer to the cats. Every pair of eyes in the tree were on him.

Suddenly, the air filled with the uh aw, uh aw cacophony of an entire unkindness of ravens. Every raven in the neighborhood began to gather in the plum tree for the show.

Birders really got that title right. Flock is not the word for this big group of tricky madness with wings. Then, total silence. He was hopping toward the two felines with a purpose.

As cats will do, they ignored him. Tangling with a raven was not on the menu today. Nope.

Too hot. Too tough. Clearly, they respected the knife-like beak and talons.

Click tap. Click tap. The raven hopped closer and closer to the back end of the Tabby. He stood behind him until he could feel his discomfort. With a flash of black, he poked the back of the cat with his beak, and the cat moved away just a bit. He laid back down.

Hopping quickly, with the purpose of a well-laid plan, he moved over and behind the big fluffy Maine Coon. Again, ignored. Pretending to sleep, the Maine Coon lay still. The Tabby peeked silently through the slit of his pretending not to see eyes.

Poke. The disgruntled cat expressed his annoyance by standing, walking two steps forward, then plopping back down. Playing it cool, he dropped with the feign of nonchalance.

The unkindness in the trees watched in total silence. Again, he was hopping back around and behind the Tabby. Poke. His reluctant low growl was not a threat to the bird, who stood still and watched as he slowly rose and moved a few more steps away. Plop.

The raven seemed uncannily tuned to the predictable next movement. From the trees, the group of unkindness began to discern the unfolding plot. Silence. Back to the Maine Coon. Hopping behind him, he poked again. The cat stood, took two steps, and plopped down.

Now, the two cats glared at each other as though a nemesis was present. Back to the Tabby. Another poke. The sun began to fade as though it did not want to watch. Grey light would soon turn to darkness.

The two glaring males were both growling quietly now. One more time should do it. Hopping around once more, the big black bird moved behind the reclining grey cat and gave him a great big poke in the butt.

An explosion of caterwauling began as the two male cats suddenly leaped to their feet, each one screaming like a dropped baby. They flew at each other with the flash and tangle of orange and the puff of fluffy grey.

The bird hopped quietly to one side to watch. The unkindness in the trees clucked and nodded at each other. Fur flew. Claws connected. The ravage was on.

“Hey!” A woman shouted from a nearby window. A door opened, and a man threw a bottle at the wailing animals. The raven leaped into the air and flapped his way back into his unkindness gathered at the top of the plum tree.

The sun fell below the horizon. The birds moved closer together as the darkness gathered around them. The Tabby had run off, and the Maine Coon went the opposite way. Somewhere in the distance, they could hear another pair of cats in conflict.

A car honked in the distance. Streetlights began to pop on one at a time. A siren screamed past. The eerie blue glow of television screens illuminated apartment window curtains. Stillness enveloped the plum tree. Each bird in the clever unkindness of ravens tucked their black beaks under their wings and welcomed the sleep of night.