Until about six weeks ago, if I took a walk in the morning, it was entirely my decision, and full of purpose – that purpose being caffeine and an overwhelming need to get out of the house and away from the fresh pile of laundry lovingly delivered by one or four of my children just that morning.

And really, what is it about the constancy of laundry? No matter how I organize it, I always feel like this-

These people, they better start pitching in.

Anyway, morning walk. I used to meander around, photographing the town, putting photos on Instagram, enjoying the air. And stopping for coffee. And yarn. Very often there was yarn involved.

Now I walk because if I don’t, I have to deal with a grumpy baby for the rest of the day. Something about getting out in the air allows her to relax and sleep. It allows me some silence in a mostly never silent day. When we get home, the effect lingers and I’m able to get some household chores done, which gives me peace of mind. “New” moms are often told to rest when the baby rests but sometimes, that rest comes in the knowledge that your home isn’t totally filthy and falling apart.

This morning, I was eager to try out the new organizer/cup holder I’d purchased for the stroller and I needed to go to the grocery store for a couple of dinner items. Away we went.

When we stopped at the corner, a car pulled up beside us and honked. I looked over. It was Sue, a professor at the college. She blew me a kiss and waved. When we approached the elementary school, a crow began to caw at us, and I cawed back. I do this. I talk to the crows, I talk to the squirrels. The crow was in the middle of his late-summer molt and looked a complete shambles, but decided to follow us after our conversation. Toward the end of that block, one of our local police officers drove by and waved from the SUV. I couldn’t quite see which one it was, but I waved back.

Crow in molt, looking a complete shambles

In the store, I bought a bottle of chopped green chilis, one of green chili enchilada sauce and a brick of Monterey Jack. I talked to Karla and Al, hooked my carrier bag to the stroller and was off again.

The crow was still outside, balanced on one leg, and scratching at his spiky new feathers with the other. We walked toward first street and north to the Ace Hardware for laundry detergent (of course). I stopped at one of the little libraries to see if there was anything interesting, and the crow flew over us to land on the roof of the insurance company building just ahead. He waited for us and cawed.

The crow followed us to Ace, and waited. In fact, the crow followed us nearly the entire way home until we crossed fifth onto College. That was when he grew bored with us and flew away, back to approximately where we first met.

I tried to take a photo of him, but every time I did, he flew behind something or over something just long enough for me to get the point and put my phone away.

I’m reading a book about crow watching right now, and one of the things the author tells you in the beginning of the book is that whenever you decide to begin studying something outdoors it will find you. I like to think that Mr. No Pictures, Please had tuned into my interest. I’ll look for him again tomorrow.

My weather app tells me “It’s amazing out there!”, and it is. Get out there, friends.