Cycling back from town yesterday, I saw: in a chestnut tree of moderate height in the middle of an open field miles from the river, a heron. And three crows flying at it, “dive bombing” it is tempting to say although their flight was mostly level. They were trying to drive it away, I suppose, and the heron kept turning to face them, but as far as I could see they never touched it. After perhaps 5 minutes they gave up. And a minute later the heron flew off.