The Crow and the Sparrows

As Thanksgiving draws near, the New England trees shed leaves in great heaps and piles, and the bare branches reveal interesting tableaux. This morning, a crow flew into a tree and picked his spot. A moment later, about fifty sparrows landed all over the rest of the branches. The crow flexed his wings and cawed mightily. (I had to turn off the radio and open the car window to determine that this was happening). The sparrows perched in a noisy, cheeping mass, unconcerned with the crow. Is there a moral here? I think so.

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