Aesop told a tale of a crow who’d flown far on a hot summer day and was looking for a drink. There wasn’t a lake or stream in sight but he happened upon a tall water pitcher. He could see the clear, fresh water in the bottom of the pitcher, but when he stuck his head inside to drink he couldn’t reach it. The crow tried to tip the pitcher over, but it was too heavy. He thought for a moment or two, then he picked up a pebble and dropped it into the pitcher. The crow dropped in another pebble and another and another until the water was finally high enough for him to drink. I’ve never seen a crow do anything this clever. But there is a crow who regularly eats take-out chicken in the cedar tree in my garden. About once a week he carries his lunch here from the K.F.C. in Starbeck.
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