Today’s great unsolved conundrum.
Many of the smaller, local birds hang around a while, flitting about in the trees and bushes. The raptors cruise about, looking for thermals, prey or just having a good time. Raptors definitely want to have fun. Crows on the other hand flap by at pace. They seem determined to get somewhere. Always on the go. Caw caw. Can’t stop. Caw caw. Must press on. Strange and troubling in some ways. Everybody should have time to relax a little. I shall start a campaign to give crows a day off. Caw caw. Time for a caw-fee break.
I confessed recently to having splurged a bit on the Kindle shop. I have finished The Opium War, and a very good read it was too, and I am about two-thirds of the way through Steve Jobs, by Walter Isaacson. The Jobs book is fascinating in a morbid sort of way. Jobs does not come across as a terribly easy-going chap. Quite the contrary. To his credit he seemed quite content for the biography to paint him as he was. And I suspect if he had been a less complicated character he would not have built what he did. I am using two of his products as I type, writing on a MacBook and downloading onto my iPod.
The iPod is interesting. The book asserts that looking at the contents of someone’s iPod tells you a great deal about them. In theory maybe. Mine contains a host of bird songs & calls, some Goon shows, and musically everything from Georges Brassens to Jethro Tull to Adele. I think a bookshelf is far more revealing. Music is to a degree a reflection of the times in which you grew up and the parental and peer influences to which you were exposed. Thus I was brought up in a home in which my father lived for Mozart, Bach and Chopin and my mother listened to Glenn Miller, Engelbert, and a host of lighter, middle-of-the-road / pop music.
The 60s was the defining decade of my life. I cannot assert with any integrity that it was the defining decade of the century as there were two world wars in the first half of the century and I suspect they may have been more influential in other ways. Similarly I am sure the Chinese would regard Mao as more significant than Dylan (Thomas or Bob, take your pick). We view the world through our own lens. But I do not think I could have grown up without developing a love of the music of the time. Unlike Jobs I never idolized Bob Dylan. His voice always struck me as like a bag of nails in a blender. The Who, The Stones, The Beatles….. they all get a big tick. So did Pink Floyd, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, Yes and Jethro Tull as I moved into the 70s. Yet I also loved classical music. I listen to Schubert in the car when I need calming down. I find Mozart sublime and can listen to Die Zauberflöte at any time. A rousing rendition of Vivaldi’s Gloria in D (RV 589) reminds me of school days when I, along with the rest of the culprits forming the school choir, probably had Viv spinning in his grave. Whirling Antonio they called him. Someone actually committed it to vinyl. I hope for the sake of all music lovers it has long since been melted down.
Still, Jobs was undoubtedly a creative perfectionist and I am sure that given the task, he could have found a way of helping crows relax. My suggestion is a trip to the local Chinese Uproar.
And as I write a crow flaps leisurely by… maybe they are turning over a new leaf. Do support them. It’s in a good caws.