Why is it a Murder of Crows?

Recently I've been reading a lot of Jenny Lawson. A woman who truly sees magic in the madness. This lady transforms her every thought into a hilarious story, she projects power to the paralysing fear that both depression and anxiety exube.

So, bearing that in mind, here is a thought process I had whilst walking Reggie along the riverside. I heard a young crow (I have no evidence that this was a crow, or young for that matter) screaming out and potentially being murdered and I instinctively thought 'that is a crow being murdered' (again no evidence of either, could of been a Rat, a Vole, an injured Squirrel OR a Dolphin lost in the River Wear?). Anyway, I decided to record everything that happened around this particular thought and despite finding myself to be quite a passive aggressive dog walker, it is something I've always wondered about.

When I was 12, a baby crow found itself in my mams garden and we didn't have any idea where the little guy came from...my mam lives behind a Snooker club and we overlooked a special needs school. This little guy ended up in a 'front garden' (basically a square of concrete) and of course we all, as a broken family of three, wanted to make sure he was ok.

My mam rang the RSPB and we were told to feed the little bugger milk soaked bread, and we did. I woke up with a start the next day, to screams, squawks and to what I can only describe as (I'd appreciate it if you could all hear that last part and the very next part in an Alan Partridge voice) A FEEDING FRENZY.

That poor little crow baby (crowlet?) was dead.

The bastards that did it flew off without a trace.

So, begs the question... did the crows murder one of their own for getting too close to humans (who I imagine are the enemy because I am one, and I hate them?) Did the little Crowlet simply die and I witnessed a true Crow funeral? or was it something more sinister?

Well...

We will never truly know but I'll have a stab in the dark and I, as a Vegan, still hope that knife hits the wing of one of the true threats to the planet. Yes. Seagulls.

Despite having a chunk of my lip bit off in 2014 by these flying devils and horror stories about lifting chicks up and snapping their necks for the freaking fun of it, I decided to beat back my judgement. I watched a family of Seagulls raise their evil chicks outside my window in Hartlepool (see my photography project; Hartlepool - A Shipping Towns Demise) and I genuinely thought they were capable of feelings. God I was naive.

Myself and one of my good friends Sean went for a nice little pint once and sat there watching a Seagull splash in the water. "Oh, Awww", we said. "If you take away the lynchings and the nonsensical murder streaks, they're actually quite cute aren't they?" we said.

No word of a lie - This particular venomous Seagull picks up a Soft Shell Crab (I'm assuming it was soft because if not, that was a fucking mental, ripped and unforgiving bird) and rips it limb to limb. I don't think either of us has been the same since, in fact we've barely seen each other, the scars have been pecked into our memories forever.

I'll never know what happened to that wee crow, but I'm guessing it was a guilty Gull.

and THAT is why I don't understand why it's a murder of Crows and a 'flock' of Seagulls.

Crows are canny, Seagulls are Snakes.