Crows are found all over the world. Usually, they hang out near people - cities, suburbs, anywhere with a good dumpster that's often filled. But they can still be found in the wild. The desert, the mountains. Probably returning often to the beaten paths, picking up the leftover beef jerky or bits of granola bars that hikers and bikers and campers have left behind.
I've seen them out there, in the not-so-faraway wild. Soaring up above 13,000 or 14,000 feet. Getting a view worthy of angels, as they loop and dive through breezes and winds. I've seen them in canyons, too, where ancient art sits on rust-orange rock walls, and silence winds around you like a thick blanket. And I've seen them on city streets, working together to corner a mouse or flying away with a hot dog bun in beak.
Next time you're outside, anywhere, don't be surprised if you find a few crow companions. Maybe you'll hear them first - the long, cra-craaa that echoes and splits the silence. And then, if you look up, you might see one or maybe two, sliding through the air, wings outstretched and steady, catching the wind.