A Lover's Wrath
By Emma Tenebrae
A Witches Wrath
I saw something on my walk the other day that really bothered me. At
first I didn't believe what I was seeing because there was a bit a distance
between the objects of my attention and where I was standing but as I surveyed
the area I realized my suspicions were correct. I was looking at four
poles one of which was empty and three were hanging dead crows. They were
oh I would say about six or seven foot tall poles with the crows strung
by their feet to the topes by a bit a rope so the dangled in the breeze.
The empty pole which was the closest to me had a crow laying below it
probably from some hungry animal being able to reach it. I was pissed
and the whys, what-fors and curses were beaming through my mind.
Ok this is England and maybe they do things a bit different. My thoughts
were raging with desire to inflict some sort of justification on this.
I surveyed the field and it was only about 8 rows of corn this farmer
seemed to be trying to protect. Far from the amount that would be for
earning any money on yet more than what a family could use in a year -
the rows were incredibly long.
I mean the bastards had killed crows and hung the there in an effort
to scare off other crows from eating the corn. Killed my BABIES!!! This
just didn't sit well with me. Upset yes but rayther than invoke what might
be cast back in return as in the three fold law I decided that perhaps
I should lay low on this. I mean I do have to live in this village too.
So I calmed myself a bit and tried not to think about it but did bring
it up to a friend. When I expressed my confusion on what value the corn
had I was told that it is used as cover for pheasants during pheasant season.
I felt the disgust well up in my throat. What must be one of the most
intelligent birds known - crows, were sacrificed for a blood sport centered
around what must be the second most stupid bird next to the extinct cuckoo
birds.
This corn is not even to be harvested to eat but left as fodder to the
soil. My crows died for that. Died so that men with guns could run around
and shoot 'stupid' birds when all you have to do is drive fast and you
can get about a half dozen a day no sweat. I am just aside myself in what
to do and for want to do something. Should I write them a letter and explain
my desire to report them to the RSPB if they don't take them down. Should
I throw a binding of bones against hunting over into their field to help
secure a poor season? Should I contact the RSPB without any warning to
them and let them deal with it?
I just seeth with disgust everytime we drive the road that passes that
farmer's field and see my babies swinging there.
But having said all that I know that I will not take any action except
in my thoughts. I can only hope that fate will return to those (who's
actions are self centered, thoughtless and based on personal greed and
satisfaction) the same as they have shared with life and the world around
them.