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A crow alighted and rearranged wing-feathers, so black they contained hues of green and purple. Jim rehearsed what he would tell Aimee about crows. “My granddad used to tell me this story. There was a thirsty crow who found a pitcher that was only half full. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t reach the water. But instead of giving up, he collected a pile of stones and dropped them in, one by one.” As if on cue, the bird hopped lop-sidedly to a discarded coke can...re-pinned by…