I don't know what it is about winter, whether it's the frigid temperatures that cause them to stick together, searching for shelter or food.
Maybe it's the stark contrast of pure white and the black, like night, making them stand out more.
But I see crows. I see them everywhere.
And what's more ominous than several, in the sky, above you? Or gathered on the bare trees?
Above a solitary farm house, at sunset, they seem like the harbingers of something sinister.
A mass murder.