a crow and his apple

Spring-like, sunny and with a warm south wind, temps in the low to mid 30s. I walk along the Lakewalk from 12th E to 43rd E., comfortable in a short-sleeved t-shirt, flannel and ski vest (I had to take off my sweater because I was too warm). Just past the Ugly Condos on Water Street, four robins fly overhead, rocketing out of a little patch of trees and headed up the hill. A bit later, out on the lake, there are 25 to 30 black-and-white somethings, most likely goldeneyes but possibly mergansers (I did not bring my binoculars). The lake is mostly open, but with a small, loose build-up of ice near the shoreline; jangling against the rocks it sounds like toy, plastic coins.

Back in the hillside, a crow plucks a rotten apple from a tree, but then drops it as he takes off. He glaces regretfully over his shoulder and half circles back, then changes his mind and keeps flying.