Crows have been my alarm clock this week. They do not cock-a-doodle like those strutting orange roosters in picture books. Crows caw from the tops of tall pine trees and telephone poles, starting early and getting more and more insistent like an unscratched itch.
I couldn't be sure in the dark of each 5:15 CDT whether it was one crow gradually perching closer to my window to badger me awake, or a mob taking turns tormenting. One morning I outlasted the caws to sleep two more hours, just like a real summer vacation sleep-in. Another I got out of bed to stalk the crows like paparazzi, but they were always too high for a tabloid shot. One dawn I gave up and tied my shoes for a long walk.
The walk gave me time to ponder "as the crow flies" and wandering "wondering eyes". Perhaps the rats are leaving the ship. I don't care if the crows are flying or otherwise leaving the Big 12 conference, but this is major news for hard-core Husker fans. Instead I wonder who is wandering and who is editing.
This from Steve Sipple of the Lincoln Journal and Star:
Might the Big 12 Thursday or Friday ask member schools for a statement of commitment?
Such a proclamation might slow or even cease rampant speculation about Big 12 members with (alleged) wondering eyes. It also might elicit the biggest “never mind” in history of mankind.
Lack of fidelity in a relationship is so common as to be little cause for wonder. I am nostalgic for the days when Nebraska was in the Big Eight and Pluto was a planet. Did Mr. Sipple really mean enquiring minds or wandering eyes?
In my edge-of-morning dreams I won't just hear crows many weeks to come. Across the hall from Dad's room an ancient woman with remarkable lungs hollers all day everyday. Like the crows she starts quiet and builds:
Please help me.
God help me.
Dear God help me.
Dear God please help me.
Dear God I implore you.
Man-age-ment, help me.
O, God, please
The poor woman is not in pain. She is just not in. Her caregivers compassionately tend to her needs, but her screaming doesn't cease. How do we wish to wander? How do we leave? It's been a difficult week, and so hard to leave my dad in this place of crows, caws, wanders and wonders.
Quoth the sports writer, "never more".
© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder