I have crow's feet now. They weren't there when I started this blog. I don't know exactly when they showed up, those subtle footprints of age, but I know when I noticed. It was Tuesday.
Since then, I've been scouring the Internet and store shelves for eye serum to fill in the "fine lines and wrinkles." I've been staring in the mirror, watching the tiny claws dig deeper with each manufactured smile. Maybe I laugh too much. Or maybe I only noticed the lines in the first place because I haven't been laughing enough.
The birds, though: I've attuned to the them for awhile, those harbingers of doom and death. I've seen them on the wires and wondered what's coming. But omens are subtler than that. Crows don't denote imminent destruction--not usually, not in real life. They're a reminder only that it's always in the wings.