Almost daily, I drive a short distance from my office to eat my lunch at Oyster Pond, a lovely salt water beach. Looking in any direction the views are lovely, and parking is so close to water's edge, that the sound of the waves can lull the effects of the morning from my mind. On a bluff looking to my right, a large hip-roofed colonial, restored by my employers a few years ago, holds forth over a small cove, all lit by brilliant Fall sunshine. It's a lovely day, nearing 70 degrees and windows open in the car, I focus on the sounds around me - an awning whipping in the stiff southwest breeze, the waves, and some distant gulls. Suddenly, a lone crow perches himself/herself on a railing near my car and begins insistently emitting two caws, a pause, 2 caws a pause. Louder and louder he/she becomes while looking directly toward a large stand of evergreens to the left of the hip-roofed house. Suddenly, a large murder, or group, of crows lifts off from the trees and fills the sky over the house, circling, circling, crying, cawing, and squawking, dipping and diving, they continue for about 30 seconds until their mission is complete, and a very large hawk arises from the tall grasses in front of the house. The hawk, duly threatened, leaves quickly, the murder continues to slowly circle, and finally, they all disappear into the trees. One single crow, lands atop the highest tree, emits 2 caws, and is gone.