I love sunset. I used to love it when I could witness spectacular sunsets in Western Mass. We don't get those so much here in the Sacto basin. However, we do have crow time at twilight.
It is quite magical to see hundreds of crows flying to their night roosts in Sacramento and Davis. A steady stream of these intelligent birds comes in like clockwork from the daily forage in the fields - bunches of birds from this field and that one converging and calling and greeting each other. Then the story telling begins. The members of the congregation call out their adventures of the day from amongst the trees they call home.
Beware of your car if you should be so unlucky to choose a spot under one of these trees! You will be laughed at by your fellow townspeople when they see the evidence of your mistake. We've all done it. Cars bespeckled with white splotches of crow poo.
When we have the inevitable winter foggy days (tulle fog - low and extremely dense), I look out my office window to wistfully witness the occasional crow emerging from the depths and disappearing again like a smudge of a ghost.
I love crow time and I will surely have to post about bat time in the future. Some call dusk the magic hour.