"I'm Not A Crook"

"I'm a rook!"

Ceridwen and I took a grand walking tour of Goodwick today in the most glorious weather one could imagine --especially in February. The highlights were a huge and rusty engine block (possibly from a tug boat), an old graffiti-bearing reservoir high above the harbor, and an old man and his homing pigeons, about which she's blipping now. Every time we go out again I learn something new, another layer into the already-familiar local onion.

There are no rooks in Philadelphia, where I live, but each time I see them over here I like them a little more. They hang out in groups, and they sit and make very striking nests in the tops of trees. This one I spotted close to me on a sign at Goodwick Parrog (beach front) is a juvenile. It said "kaah!" to me several times, and now I'm regretting that I didn't take care to include the creature's tail, here hidden by the sign.

I was amused that Ceridwen didn't know who said, "I'm not a crook." It's not something one could easily forget from American life, but now I'm at a loss as to whether it's a comic memory or one of sleaze and corruption. Nixon seems almost like an innocent, now that we've lived through George W. Bush.

I've had good luck with birds during this visit. I have resisted blipping good shots of a red kite and a curlew because so many blippers outclass me with equipment and skill, and so many of them shoot birds. It is affection for rooks that brings on this blip. I wish I could bring a whole storytelling of rooks home with me.

Long Live Rooks!

[ EDIT: After a tip-off from BAT, it looks like this bird is actually saying, "I'm not a rook, either!" It turns out to be a Carrion Crow. That said, they do look similar, and there are none of either where I live. I offer my affection to carrion crows everywhere, and I stand by everything I wrote about rooks as well! ]