Raven / crow story
Injured, dying crow/raven at the base of a tree on the sidewalk on Ome-kaido, in front of a Saizeriya family restaurant on Wednesday, June 1, 2016. I was walking to a part-time evening job when I noticed it on the ground. Then I noticed its partner on a sign board over my head calling to its mate. I stopped by the local Police Box and told the policeman there about it, figuring that maybe there is an animal control protocol in Nakano Ward. The Police Box could call someone at City Hall, although it was very late in the afternoon. The police officer I spoke to did not understand me, so I walked him a few meters down the sidewalk to show him what was what. "Oh, I understand," he said. Later, after my job, when it was dark, I walked back to the same spot hoping the bird was not there. As I approached the tree I was happy to see that it was not there. But when I got really close I recognized its limp body in the street. Either it had lamely scrambled there in a painful effort to flee, or else someone just threw it into the street while it was still alive. The mate was no longer waiting on the sign post plaintively calling to it. The spirit had fled, and what was left was just a broken vessel. In death everything seems to shrink. I don't like crows and I hate cockroaches. But in death they seem so small, harmless and pitiful. The same is true of humans. The worst humans are still only people, and once they're dead it's hard to imagine the malice that resided in them and project from such normally-configured people.y Hall, although it was very late in the afternoon. The police officer I spoke to did not understand me, so I walked him a few meters down the sidewalk to show him what was what. "Oh, I understand," he said. Later, after my job, when it was dark, I walked back to the same spot hoping the bird was not there. As I approached the tree I was happy to see that it was not there. But when I got really close I recognized its limp body in the street. Either it had lamely scrambled there in a painful effort to flee, or else someone just threw it into the street while it was still alive. The mate was no longer waiting on the sign post plaintively calling to it. The spirit had fled, and what was left was just a broken vessel. In death everything seems to shrink. I don't like crows and I hate cockroaches. But in death they seem so small, harmless and pitiful. The same is true of humans. The worst humans are still only people, and once they're dead it's hard to imagine the malice that resided in them and project from such normally-configured people.