Must there always be an answer?

Two pairs of crows wheel deliriously across the sky about a quarter mile from my window. I get the binoculars and lean in against the sill.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t think twice about the birds, but these four are flying in such tight formation, two leading and the two others apparently following behind, that I can’t take my eyes off them. They are not traveling anywhere. They climb and circle then plummet as one, so close at times their wings overlap. A few feet above the ground, they pull out exactly together, like side-by-side roller coasters, only to skim the tops of the junipers and begin the climb again.