From my study I see them all. Stirred up, squawking specks of jet black against the light blue sky of a brisk autumn day. They rise from trees, cruising in gangs, seemingly at random, expending considerable energy to stick together. So much noise and effort... and plenty to crow about.
Contrast this with the next arrival. Large, imposing, full of grace and purpose. A confident twist of the red triangle tail directs its direction. From where I sit the Red Kite seems utterly gentlemanly - graciously unrapacious.
Better big-up big boy! Smart money's still on the crows - whatever the carrion!