Why do the crows even bother?

I rode the train into Seattle yesterday morning, returning from a trip to Glacier Park. It snowed there for four straight days, but I saw a ginormous male grizzly bear galumphing through a meadow and on across the highway toward the St Mary River, so it could have been 50 below and I would have considered the trip a complete success. Anyway, just as we were almost to the station at the end of the trip, traveling along the edge of Puget Sound by Myrtle Edwards Park, there was a bald eagle quite close to the shore, maybe 15 feet above the water, being chased by a pair of frantic crows. For there in the eagle's beak dangled a baby crow. The outraged crow parents hadn't yet come to grips with their obvious loss, but these things never end well do they? Then, after refueling with a cup of authentic coffee at Zeitgeist we headed home, and there on the Bridge was Ethel at her "Post". I love that girl. Haven't seen Ernest for a long time. But figure he's somewhere about, hopefully helping on occasion with the care and feeding of the eaglet(s). Two years ago we actually saw Ethel's eaglet when it fledged in late July that season.