The sound of buzzing fills the air around my workshop, repeatedly zooming in close, then disappearing into the faint distance. I glance up from studying the pages of drawings scattered across my work bench, each of them littered with tiny black specs of welding burns. I see one of my giant fly traps, its leafy traps springing back in forth in the cool breeze just outside the cracked shop window. I know this sound but it is strangely amplified, like a helicopter swinging in low over my property. Flinging down my pen I step out the shop's roll up door on the east side of the building to try and get a visual on the sound. As my eyes adjust to the morning rays of light pouring over me, I lock eyes on the sound's origin.

And I thought our crows were massive!!