Shooting Times & Country

Country Diary

I saw a pair of ravens fly over me last Wednesday — I was only alerted to their presence thanks to an argument occurring overhead.

A squadron of four crows had spotted the appearance of their unwelcome relatives. Up they swarmed from a belt of conifers and surrounded the ravens, shrieking in anger, mobbing and stooping like tattered bin bags blown in the wind.

The ravens flew on with insouciance,

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