Although it is not really a crow, but a chough, it brought to mind a story by Calvino
[…] Then the soldier stood up and pointed to the black bird with his finger. “There is the crow there!” he shouted, in his own language. The bullet caught him right in the middle of a spread-winged eagle he had embroidered on his jacket.
The raven ducked slowly, in circles.
[Last Comes the Raven – Italo Calvino].