A sudden downpouring.
This Crow drinks deeply from a fresh pool of rain water that has gathered. The pooling of water causes some bugs that were dug into the ground at the base of the tree, This Crow snaps them up immediately. He could actually hear them scurrying when they were still several inches underground. This Crow with a bellyful spashes in the small puddle and shakes out his feathers recomposing himself in his shiny black plumes.
A torrent races several feet away. The rain gathers easily on the hard dry ground and rushes along the wash and gathers along gulley lines.
In no time the sky opens up and the only change is that the debris of the desert floor has all been shifted by the streaming sheets of water.
This Crow sees a glint a few feet from where he was once dying. He hops over weak but recovering fast and discovers the the pile of shiny glass beads. They had been covered by wind blown sand and without the rainfall not only would This Crow be dead but he would never had found the shiny glass beads either.
He makes the dangerous trip four more times and on the fifth cannot find the spot, there having been a terrible wind storm. The tree which has preserved both the shiny glass beads but also This Crow was fallen and broken and scattered as it was rolled in the winds.