Mr Walker Strides On

March 11, 2023March 10, 2023 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 1 Comment

Mr. Walker is number four in my City Crow Stories book of crow characters — and his life seems to be rambling on much as it has in previous years.

He and his mate Wanda wait for the dog and I each morning. If Mr. W is busy in the alleyway checking out the bins, Wanda will let him know it’s time.

Time to drop whatever he’s up to and get himself into position for the daily gallop alongside the “bringers of the peanuts” to the sacred spot at the foot of the massive cherry tree.

Here he is in action this very morning — showing fine promenading form once he gets neck and neck with Geordie, the dog …

As per usual, he strides/ambles/scampers alongside Geordie, waits for him to have the customary sniff at his tree, and then up onto his pedestal for the peanut payoff.

As is also routine, Wanda, having arrived at the tree via air (I’ve never seen her lower herself to pedestrian pastimes), drops down from the branches above to get in first dibs.

Mr. Walker this morning, looking as suave as ever

I wrote last summer about the Walkers’ early nesting failure and, though they did seem to be working on a second nest, I think the stress of another hot dry summer led them to just give up in order to concentrate on keeping themselves fed and hydrated.

It’s a pretty exhausting business raising fledglings, as seen in the book with pictures from 2021 when they raised two of them

They went AWOL for the latter part of the summer and imagined them just kicking back in the shade, tiny sunglasses balanced on their beaks, waiting for the cooler weather. Far too hot for any jogging, even for peanuts.

And, indeed, by fall they were back at the appointed spot — Mr. Walker ready, willing and eager to get back into training for the peanut Olympics.

On this occasion, for once, he beat Wanda to the goodies!

The simple reliability of this little daily ritual is strangely comforting — and Mr. Walker’s enthusiastic perambulation technique always brings a smile.

Mabel: A Requiem

March 10, 2023March 12, 2023 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 16 Comments

Her Mabelness was the third crow in the City Crow Stories.

And now she is the hardest one to write an update about.

Those of you who have been following me for a while may have noticed I haven’t posted anything about her for a long while. Partly I kept hoping she’d reappear, and partly I was reluctant to share more bad news, however small, with the world seemingly awash in the stuff.

Anyway — Mabel was the crow I’ve known the longest, dating back to when she and George Brokenbeak were our “house crows.” She’s certainly the crow I’ve written the most about, following the her trials and tribulations with George Brokenbeak , and her survival and thriving after the loss of her mate.

George and Mabel’s love story is one of my most popular posts, and was even “stolen” and mis-told in a viral post that has been circulating for years.

Last spring Mabel seemed hale and hearty and preparing for another nesting season with her new mate. I took the next photograph of her April last year, not knowing it would be the last time I’d see her.

When she vanished for a few weeks, I didn’t worry at all as it’s normal for female crows to seemingly go AWOL for about three weeks as they sit quietly on the eggs in the nest.

But then May rolled around, and then June. The summer passed by with no sign of Mabel. What happened is a mystery and I just have to assume she went to join the great roost in the sky, where perhaps she’s reunited with George at last.

I still miss Mabel, the Queen of Frazzled — capable of looking dishevelled and yet regal all at once …

Apart from being a devoted mate to George, she was a pretty darned amazing parent.
Here are some of my favourite and oh-so relatable Mabel-being-a-mom moments from years gone by …

The classic and ever-popular “Art of Parenting” shot

A slight look of panic in Mabel’s one good eye as the brood descends

So hard to get a moment of peace and quiet …

I will especially miss Mabel in the next couple of weeks when the pink plum blossoms appear on the local street trees.

The plum tree branches were always a favourite material of hers for nest construction. It was Mabel who was the model for the rather lovely and hopeful moment captured in Sky Messenger as she flew over me trailing a long garland for the nest.

Mabel was perhaps most at home upon her throne, inherited from George — a specific rusty yellow ring holding the chain at the entrance to the local school’s parking lot.

For a long time, only Mabel was allowed to perch there.

I noticed in the year before she disappeared that she’d occasionally permit her favourite offspring to take a turn. Perhaps she knew they needed to practice that regal pose.

I assume that one of the crow couple who took over Mabel’s corner includes one of those favoured heirs.

They’re certainly carrying on the Mabel tradition of confidence and sense of place.

One of the new pair is prone to making a beeping noise, something like heavy machinery backing up. So talented!

So here I present Mabel’s descendants, exalted inheritors of the golden ring — Beeper and Bopper.

More crow updates coming soon …

City Crow Stories … A Year On

March 9, 2023March 8, 2023 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 10 Comments

These last three years have seen time moving at a peculiar pace. Individual days have seemed very long , yet somehow entire years have rushed past like a river in flood.

Perhaps that’s just me. Nevertheless, it seems both a very long time ago and also “only yesterday” that I started on my little book, City Crow Stories. After much hooing and hawing (literary terms) about what exactly to write about, I decided to try and let the crows tell their own tales by profiling seven of my local crowquaintances.

As a crow watcher, you can never get too complacent. One day you think you know exactly who’s who on the local crow scene and the next day you go out for the daily catchup only to find that the crow chess pieces have moved. It’s a new game and a new puzzle.

Time now, I think, for some updates on The Magnificent Seven I wrote about — and what I do and don’t know about them all a year on.

Starting today with …

MARVIN & MAVIS

Marvin and Mavis were the first two crows profiled in the book.

Until last fall I’d see them every day in my garden — this summer bringing with them their fledgling, Lucky.

I wrote extensively about their busy summer of parenting in the Crow Parenting series.

Lucky, August 2022

To my great happiness, Lucky has stayed with Marvin and Mavis over the winter. This much I know!

Marvin, Lucky and Mavis on a neighbour’s roof last week.

It used to be very clear that, if there were crows in the garden, those crows would be Marvin and Mavis. Due to a local population shift, things are not longer quite so easy.

When Marvin and Mavis lost “their” stand of poplar trees 2020, they had to go slightly further afield to find safe nesting sites. They tried the tree across the alley from us several years ago, twice, but lost the nests both times to racoons. They refuse to try that tree again.

Not so these two newcomers to the ‘hood …

The new crows had better luck and managed to raise one fledgling, in spite of the raccoon raids.

Naturally, they now think our back yard is theirs too.

I had to curtail the daily peanut offerings on the back deck as they were in danger of casing crow riots. The newcomer crows cannot keep a secret, and crows from the other end of the block have started keeping a close eye on things and now zoom in whenever I open the back door.

One of the new crow neighbours

Apart from the general racket, I was worried that some crow was going to get hurt in the competitive dive bombing that would ensue as soon as a single peanut appeared.

Marvin, as often seen these days, in fierce “head feathers up” mode to try and deter the interlopers

On snowy days I still put out some provisions for the raucous gang, but mostly I now try and wait to see if Marvin and Mavis come later in the day for a quiet visit, or go out and find them on “their” corner.

Marvin and Mavis serenading from upper deck

With the current crowfusion, it’s harder to tell exactly who’s who at a glance. Mavis still has one slightly blunt claw so it’s often up to zooming in on feet to make a reasonably accurate ID. That, and noting the direction from which they arrive.

Mavis in the snowbell tree, Dec 2022

Marvin, Mavis and Lucky — October 2022

The photo above is Marvin on Christmas morning, 2022 beside a small tree. This is one of the saplings finally planted to replace the lost stand of poplars. It will be while before the new trees are nest-worthy, but a small sign of hope for the future.

A quiet visit from just Marvin and Mavis (and sometimes Lucky) is a rarer thing that it used to be — but it still happens and is all the more appreciated.