From my perch indoors, I cupped my mug of tea, feeling the warmth spread through my hands, smelling the steam rise with hints of chocolate as I watched three crows land on the gutter across the street, huddled together as the night approached, conversing in short barks of corvid language before coming to an agreement and alighting north one at a time in a slow swoop above the bare trees. It was another Sunday of doing as Christmas approaches and another night of game playing and laughter warm and safe inside.