November 18, 2023

Good morning!

It’s our last Saturday in Paris, and the Jardin des Plantes is almost done setting up its Evening Lights Festival for the holidays. We took a stroll through the display a few days ago (in the rain, of course) to admire the enormous colorful statues of various animals and their habitats. As I was lamenting how we’d miss seeing everything lit up, a crow hopped down from a tree statue where he’d been observing us.

“Good afternoon,” he said in a very charming French crow accent. “My compatriots in Maine have asked me to check up on you.”

Before I could reply, he went on, “…and to tell you that the sunflower seed is running low.”

“Ahh,” I said.

He cleared his crow throat. “I think you understand what this means.”

I nodded, and I asked him to reassure his compatriots that, very soon, their cup would once again runneth over.

He said that would do nicely—and with a crow salute, he flew off to inspect a gigantic blue spider statue across the way.

“We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.”

—Gwendolyn Brooks

Onwards,

Clara