I run and see the crows daily. They splash, play, talk, and announce the sunset. I see them in yards flipping leaves together and can’t help but feel that they are calculating probabilities. Of what, I am not sure – maybe the probability of finding a nut, bug, or piece of pizza. No matter what, I know the probability of the joy when I see my black feathered friends is 1.
I have made a daily practice of haiku writing. The crows are part of my second set published here on medium. This is one on the calculating crows: