I do not need to check the fig tree to see when the figs are ripe.
The crow lets everybody know.
He sits on an oak branch high above the fig tree, bobbing up and down,
as he loudly caws all to the feast.
I do not mind sharing. He takes the high figs and I take the low figs.
There are other fig lovers.
They do mind sharing.
Follow the Figs… Carefully.