It’s easy to imagine that all of Vancouver’s twenty thousand plus crows are the same. They have that black outfit, right, and the same favorite song, and they really only love you for your leftover taco chips. They also hate the camera. I can mime taking a picture of one and immediately cause it to flap off.
If they are sitting still, it’s because they know the light is bad. “No peanut, no piccie!” seems to be the widespread crow policy. But not this individual, who was only too happy to preen while I stood snapping maybe four feet away.
The lesson one might draw from this, if one chose, is no less valuable for being totally obvious.
