A sudden movement of crows fly as a random print on a flat grey sky. Jay stares away. Cold pours into his lungs and settles there while warm smoke hovers below his untrimmed brow. Each black bird selects a viewing branch from the naked tree. Ice water drinks Jay into the pond. A last few crows swim the horizon to their roosting tree, and a group of ripples grasp the shore below the tree before they surrender to the weak ebb of the pond.