Wooden wings go round and round in the wind, but the birds go nowhere. Stationary in the garden, these creatures can only hope to occasionally turn side to side with the wind or in an exceptional moment, to club an unsuspecting crow that flies too close. Some days I feel like I'm one of these birds, frantically waving my arms, running around in circles and going nowhere. If only I could club a few unsuspecting crows, maybe I would feel better. In anticipation of that exceptional moment...I keep the list of my "crows" handy.