Meet Sam Crow
Friday, March 31, 2017
7:00 PM 9:00 PM
Catonsville Historical Society
1824 Frederick Road Catonsville, MD, 21228
Across the street at the Oaks Club.
Free and open to the public.
Come enjoy a glass of wine, nibble on some snacks, share conversation with book lovers, and take a look at the latest offerings from a best-selling author.
Sam is all over the internet (sometimes disguised as Samuel Corvid) whether gallivanting around on social media or guest posting on everybody’s blog.
(Where’s there’s a comment to be found, you’ll likely see him around. He’s got “an air of mystique”.)
Samuel Booker Crow
Finally it is Springtime! Alcyone rises in the sky and her Pleiadian Sister, Maia, breathes refreshing gentle warmth across the whole land. Time to disappear into the wild places and ready the nest for hatchlings. We will return when the weather cools in Septober. Ko-oh-gah!
Our cousins in the Blue Jay clan do the same, disappearing into the sweet-gum thickets with nary a peep. Jays are Corvids too and if you catch a Jay and cage it, it will die. Jays are Free Birds and need a place to hop around and stretch their long legs. Sam Crow has a nest over on tumblr called Strange Triumphant Bluebird because he’s a Free Bird, too. See you in the Myrtle branches!
"I tried, with all my limited strategies to think of some way to escape those hounding thoughts; perhaps by turning the neural valves, or willing the mental gauges to revert to other positions. But the valves remained stuck; the gauges wouldn't budge. I knew then that control of my inner machinery was more than a matter of wishful thinking"
It is nearing the Autumn Equinox in our neck of the woods and we have been crooning among the Pecans at Blackwell’s Grove for several weeks now. As predicted, a Hurricane from the Gulf swept through the mountains and pulled in a weather changing front behind it as it exited. So Septober has been fine and Weatherly, with cool mornings and large air movement. My family tribe is back among the nut trees but everyone is still on their best manners.
Our tribe is native to this region and our family has been a steward of these Pecan and Walnut Groves for well over 200 years. The Boy’s Grand Mamma planted these Pecans and they are mammoth by now. She was born right after the Civil War. The Blackwell land they raised a family on has always been a good sponsor of Walnuts and the two nuts get along fabulously.
Speaking of Hurricanes, it was fast-moving Michael who got tangled up in his trailing cold-front, causing a massive pressure gradient that took out two Elder Pecans at once. This year, we had a late freeze and the Pecan tassels all got frozen, so there aren’t many nuts. We call that a Sabbatical and hope for better next year. You know what a scarcity of nuts means, don’t you? Fewer baby squirrels to eat next spring. What? That makes you squeamish? You eat cows and chickens, don’t you? And little baby chicken eggs? At least our kind don’t eat little baby humans! We’d happily peck your eyes out if you lay on the side of the road too long, though.
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The loudest sound we cannot hear
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lack of comprehension
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scavenger of human sorrow
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