I know crows and ravens like sparkly things. I also know they tend to gift people they like with their treasures. I would never have put me in that category, given that I don’t allow them to land in my back yard. They don’t take it personally; territory is a language they speak and they seem to be cool with that (thinking of the descriptions I read by a researcher who captured and studied some crows and then got bombarded and harassed to the third generation of them.)

Ernie was lying on the ground in the back yard this afternoon, but how he got there, your guess is as good as mine. There’s no small child around, or big, either, to have lobbed it high and far over the fence. No mud had splashed over him from yesterday’s rain. And there is no way on earth I would have missed seeing him bright and shiny there for twenty years since our youngest outgrew the Muppets stage (and I don’t recognize it.) But perch on the overhang from our bedroom and drop it, it would have landed right there.

Pristine. The loop *is* a very sparkly gold.

Hey, guys, don’t you think it’s a little early to be bringing out the Christmas ornaments?

C’est une mystère.