Loose Jackdaw in the frost

COFFEE IN THE FROST
I’m standing on the Vistula River. I hold a warm coffee from Żabka in my hand. It’s cold and the fog is so thick that I can barely see the water. However, I see a small boat ramp attached to the edge of the boulevard. But that’s not what’s important. A rather massive gray crow is walking on it. Or a coffee… I move a little closer, but only a little so as not to scare her. I’m watching. Something about her interests me – her movement. The fact that there is something going on in this bird brain.
She doesn’t know I’m watching her. Or maybe she knows, but pretends not to see… Like people sometimes 🙂

He’s walking on a slippery platform, obviously looking for something. Checks links. He goes further. He stands on the edge. It looks like she’s getting ready to fly, but… no. He jumps down onto the rope that moors the platform to the shore. What coordination! He now looks like a tightrope walker who balances his body perfectly. It peeks with its beak underneath. In the crack. Well, he sees something there. He takes out a light, thin stick, which he vigorously throws out onto the platform with his beak. She returns to him. She investigates for a moment, but is clearly disappointed in him. He goes “mehhhh…” And he walks, swinging from side to side, and then suddenly, cowering in himself, he lowers his head and lets out a roar. So portly. It’s hard to describe it onomatopoeically, but something tells me that she screamed and croaked under her beak something like: “f—–a f—–y stick again, f–k me a stick, I’m hungry.” After all, it’s a polka crow. He definitely thinks in Polish.

Did you know that crows remember human faces? An intelligent beast. And swinging he goes on. He wonders and jumps down from the platform to the ground. He approaches a sewer manhole from which some water has collected in the cracks. He takes a few sips. Damn, this crow only drinks cold ones all the time… She doesn’t know what a warm drink is, not to mention a meal… She’s going through hell!
Maybe she thought to herself: If I don’t eat breakfast, I’ll at least have a drink.
And swinging he goes on. These birds walk funny. Or maybe we’re acting funny from their perspective.

She moved away and suddenly pecked something out of the ground. Something yellowish. I can’t see from this distance. But I see that he swallows it eagerly. Maybe a piece of pretzel. Finally he flies away. But not to warm countries. Maybe she’s fine with us. Or maybe there is no way out 🙂
End.

Ps. With the relaxed rules, I wish you a relaxed Saturday!

Enjoy your coffee 🙂