on a day where the air was somewhat keened with bad, then Fen and I  saw this dead baby crow and i could but interpret it as a sign though it was probably just a sign of its own death. Fen, who has been known to leap into the air over the street to catch a crow on the fly, barely glanced and briefly sniffed. 

it is the first dead baby crow i've seen in memory. i've seen dead crows, and i've seen a gathering of crow bones, and a chorus of crows overhead in the branches, talking to me. this baby's mama was on a pine and cawed twice in acknowledgement and grief.

at this point i wasn't thinking of pictures, i was stuck in the picture in the park with the red father and i was fearing repercussions.

 but i don't fear too much, for i was doing right, and red father wrong.