“Do you see them?”
It is 5:30 p.m. on a clear January night. Bobby Sanchez is pointing to a tree near the parking lot of Nampa’s Fred Meyer store. It is a tree with a thick trunk and sprawling branches covered in what appear to be dark leaves.
Sanchez points a neon green laser at the tree. The leaves start to flutter. They lift off the branches all at once and fly away by the hundreds. Because they are not leaves at all. They are crows — big, dark crows with wings compressing the cold January air with a sound like stacks of papers let loose in the wind.
For the last two years, the crows have made Nampa their roosting spot. Surrounded by farmland, Nampa makes a perfect home base. After spending their days munching on seeds in the surrounding fields, the birds fly into town at night to seek