Yesterday, as I stood at my bay windows watching clouds smudge by, a magpie dropped in to pick up seeds from below my birdfeeder. A short time later a second magpie appeared. Soon, a third swooped in.
When
it comes to magpies, the number three is important.
One
magpie is fun. A solitary magpie will
put on an acrobatic show—jumping and tumbling about.
Two
magpies will dance around each other.
Not exactly a waltz, but a dance.
Three
magpies? They all become assholes and
pick on each other incessantly.
— Mitchell Hegman
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