Our future meetings need to be planned for outdoors, exclusively. He’s messy.
I enjoy his visits.
With a flapping of wings, he announces his presence. He shuffles along the edge of a roof gutter with a semi-pleasant sound, letting me know where he is. He disappears. I spot him after a minute.
He takes pleasure in vanishing while remaining near.
He’ll sit the fence with his back toward me, or fly to a tree, roof, gutter, deck, sometimes the ground, tilt his head, watching, waiting for me to say Hello.
Today, with my dog resting nearby, he stays near while I pull weeds. He finds a container of sealed dog treats on a backyard table. It’s not for him. But he demonstrates he can open it. Nature in action.
His visits seem to invite me stay outside.
He comes by daily now, staging a black blur flitting by a window where I’m sure to glimpse him. A bit dramatic. He adds a cawing, when it’s only a flyby, See you in a few. He returns in a few, in blurs.