I was sitting in my usual restaurant watching people and birds and leaves and wind : nature, human and otherwise.  

By chance I turned my head strongly to the right and, through the window beside me, noticed a crow sitting on the fence, perhaps eight or so feet away, facing away from me.

A crow with a golden head.

First thought was that it was a carved wooden statue and the start of a wonder at who would have put it there and why.  But then it moved a bit.

It was a crow.  With a golden head. I simply stared.

Then it occurred to me to dig camera out of purse and take a photo of this amazing bird.  But even then, I hesitated;  unwilling to make a motion that would cause it to fly away; willing to continue to simply sit and stare.

It did then fly away.  And I saw that it was a crow with a black head.

I felt caught in some kind of time warp as I went back to eating my lunch and letting the realization evolve.

Which it did.  I had seen the reflection of an amber light on the opposite wall of the restaurant perfectly aligned with the crow's position and the angle of  the sun.

Somehow one's life is altered by such experiences. The mere mortal part of me put it down on paper with brushes and paint.