Very early one morning I was sitting in my car outside a supermarket, just as it was getting light.
The car park was deserted except for me and at least a dozen jet black crows; squawking and diving and wheeling and flapping in an extraordinary menacing dance.
I learned that they are usually rather solitary birds but when they gather it’s called a mobbing and that the collective noun for crows is a murder.

I am another text block. Click edit button to change this text. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Ut elit tellus, luctus nec ullamcorper mattis, pulvinar dapibus leo.