Crows, in the greasy, gray skies of late November. They fly over around twilight, stopping to alight in the trees in the alley behind the studio, to stare off to the west. (They are all facing west???) It's a brief interlude; then off to wherever a cauldron of crows roosts for the night. Somewhere back in my posts, I've noted similar behavior. It's probably a religious thing.
Posts
