Ravenspeak

November 9, 2023November 9, 2023 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 17 Comments

Sometimes it seems like cheating for a self-described “urban nature enthusiast” to follow the urge to get out of the city — to leave the daily crow-banter behind for a few hours and talk to the ravens.

But, every so often, a bit of raven chat is just what’s needed, so off we go.

Quite often, hours of hiking yield zero in the way of raven communication — only the whoosh of wing-displaced air as they sail indifferently by.

Of late, I’ve been trying my hand (or epiglottis) at raven calling.

My dream: those aloof fly-by ravens will be so intrigued by my eloquent commentary, my fluent greetings, my show-stopping non sequiturs, they’ll do a mid-air U-turn to get to know this fascinating earth-bound conversationalist.

Results, predictably, have been mixed.

But yesterday, on our hike up on Black Mountain, I heard a raven fly over, performed my “come-hither” squawk and, a few minutes later, two ravens landed near us.

Buoyed by my possible success, I attempted a more close-up conversation.

Below are some of the looks I got in response to my conversational gambits.

Curious, bemused …

A mix of horror and astonishment …

Concern. Is the poor thing hurt?

Another observable reaction to my vocalizations was claw biting. I’m unclear as to whether this was a form of anxious nail-biting (what is she trying to do to us?) or just boredom (when will she stop?) … or none of the above.

There were some responses from the ravens but there clearly remains a vast gulf of incomprehension between us. Much more practice is needed.

More hiking. More squawking.

You may wonder what my walking companions get up to while I’m trying out my raven phraseology.

Geordie puts himself into a state of doggy self-hypnosis until this boring phase is over and we can get going again.

Phillip, fittingly, takes the time to keep up with his Duolingo Spanish commitments on his phone. Where, I ask, is the Duolingo Raven module?

Which leads me to wonder: is anyone out there studying what different raven calls mean?

I know that a group in the UK were studying this topic a few years ago as they asked me to submit some of my videos to help with their research, but I’ve never been able to find out what their conclusions were. I’ve been corresponding with a bird rescue volunteer on Vancouver Island who’s trying to compile a guide for volunteers on raven calls but can’t find any comprehensive information either.

Does anyone know if there is, anywhere, a study on the types of raven calls and what they might mean?

Duolingo, are you listening?

For more posts on the wonder of raven calls:

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© junehunterimages, 2023. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to junehunterimages with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

When the Raven Knocks

February 22, 2023February 22, 2023 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 12 Comments

My title sounds a bit ominous, like Edgar Allen Poe’s doleful visitor tapping on a window, but have no fear. In my world, when the raven knocks, you should always answer!

As winter drags on down here in the city, only letterbox shaped views of the mountains are available most days, peeking out between the gunmetal clouds.

Those glimpses do serve to remind me that the mountains and the ravens are out there — and that I might get up to see them once a week or so. Many people head south for this gloomy part of the winter, but I’m always drawn to the snow rather than the sand.

Often we get up on the mountain and there’s only a matching letterbox view back out at the city through the same clouds …

… but every time it’s wonderful in some different way.

To hear a raven calling in the snow-hushed forest — that knock, knock, knock call, something between a tapping on hollow bamboo and water dropping into a still pool — that sound alone is worth getting out of bed early and stepping into long johns and winter woollies.

You can see the raven’s chilly morning breath in this video and, if you listen closely, hear a stream merrily running in the background.

We met this suave raven below in the forest on our last trip. I like to think I “called” him or her. I have been practicing my raven calling, with mixed results. Usually they ignore me, but occasionally they do a U-turn in mid-flight, possibly to come see if something down below is dying and available for lunch.

But, back to the raven and the beautiful call.
Like a trained opera singer, the raven pours all kinds of skill and stamina into that effortless sounding “clock clock clock.”

Head thrown back for best possible vocal projection.

Nictitating membrane of the eye deployed, giving the impression that our performer is blocking out all distraction in order to produce the purest sound.

Throat expanded, presumably to make a hollow space from which to draw that echoing call. Magnificent feathery “cravat” sticking out in all directions.

Wings held out to the side and tail spread out — that horizontal line behind the raven is the tail, held out like a fan.

The virtuoso performance …

For more posts on the wonder of raven calls:

You might also enjoy: Edgar Allen Poe and the Raven Mix-up

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Raven Tutor

March 30, 2018August 22, 2023 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 11 Comments

Well, obviously the ravens of East Vancouver did not think much of my raven language skills! The very morning I published Learning to Speak Raven, they sent a tutor to teach me some new phrases.

I could hear the crows fussing and a raven making some sounds I’d never heard before as soon as I got up. Threw on some clothes (out of consideration for the neighbours) and rushed outside with my camera — but I’d missed them.

But it was my day for a lesson in raven anyway. When I took Geordie out for his walk later, my instructor returned. She landed on the neighbour’s roof and began a virtuoso performance. I think she may have been trying to show me just how little “raven” I know.

If you don’t see the video below, click HERE.

Apologies for the quality of the video, but it was raining and I had a dog on the end of a leash who was more keen to continue his walk than to hang around watching a raven.

As usual, the crows were unimpressed with the visitor.

Perhaps some of her song was a lament about the state of the Spring weather …

Eventually, she decided to take her performance elsewhere.

But not before taking a little walkabout.

Other posts about wonderful raven calls:

www.junehunter.com

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© junehunterimages, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to junehunterimages with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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