I was walking past these gnarled trees when two crows suddenly settled on some branches, squawked loudly, and flew off. There’s something rather foreboding in the sound of squawking crows in a Winter landscape. I felt as if I was in a Gothic novel. It was a mysterious moment.
Haha!!! you’re talking to an ex-birder here – the cawing of crows across a bare winter landscape is music to my ears – and more so the deeper voices of Ravens. A 🙂
LikeLike
I know what you mean about the deeper voices of Ravens, Adrian. It’s a haunting sound.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice, cold and dark.
LikeLike
Thank you. It was certainly cold on the day I took it, Thomas.
LikeLike