During the week end I wanted to take photos of wild crows at our country house, but when I came to think about it, I have never, ever spottet a crow there. As I sat thinking about it, I heard those strange crowing sounds from our hoarding room. You know the room where you put all the things that you do not have the heart to throw away, cause it can be useful some day, and if not in this life, may be if there is an after life? Well, I heard those rusty, crowinglike sounds from downstairs, and there I found Svartlars. That is Black Lars, our very own crow. It, oh dear, he, was once a very cherished member of our family, and now he is almost forgotten, discarded, dusting away on a shelf together with debris from our last 25 years. Poor Svartlars. When I finally went down to him, and asked him whether he wanted to go away with us for the weekend, he was crowing with utter pleasure. Sure he would! And whether he wanted to be taken for a photoshoot? Kra-kra! He was over the hills, hilarious, rather.
Well off we went, and here you can see the results of our phfotoshoot. When it came the real thing, he was rather scared. It was so many years since last time he breathed fresh air, it was eh, breathtaking for him. And when it came to sit in trees, looking free as the bird, (ehhmm), it rather scared his wits out. But look for yourself, I think he did rather well. I told him he was a good boy.
|Our Steiffcrow wanted to sing along too|