The crows at work almost always spot me before I spot them. I think they recognize my gait because they can find me in a new jacket with the hood up against the Seattle rain. They have a particular flight pattern, a low swoop braking right in of me, to get my attention.
Sometimes their wingtips brush my arm as they come by. This took a while; at first I would feed them any time I saw them, even up high on a light pole. Now I wait for them to swoop me.
My avatar here is one of those work crows.
Sometimes after an unpleasant work meeting or something they find me as, tired and grumpy, I'm leaving my building. They never fail to make me laugh, and to turn around my mood.
I've never received trinkets from crows, but they've still given me more than I've given them.