Wednesday, 28 March 2012

Poe Faced

The lemur considers carefully. The girl is offering food - should it take it, or sit on its tree in disdain?
It decides... and leaps, adhering to the wire of its cage with sharp, sure claws, taking the long stem of grass being offered and chewing on it with instinctive passion.
"Nice one," I praise while watching on the small screen of my camera phone. The episode has now been captured on video for posterity, or until I get a new phone. My daughter smiles in delight as the animal feeds from her hand.
I turn and observe the next cage. A large raven sits on its perch, observing me with beady eye. I move closer, holding the camera phone close to the mesh. The raven observes, waiting for its close up, Mr DeMille.
It strikes, beak scything through the gaps in the mesh, knocking the gadget out of my hand. I catch it nimbly before it hits the floor.
The children laugh.
I stare at the raven. The raven stares back.
I ponder for a moment.
I slowly bring the camera phone up, holding it against the wire for a second time.
The raven strikes; I pull back, reaching out with my other hand and giving a dry slap to the inch of beak protruding through the mesh.
"Quark," says the raven indignantly, flying to the back of the cage and settling upon another perch.
I gaze at it in grim satisfaction. It stares back with quiet menace.
Quoth the raven nevermore.

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