Ravens and Crows in the City

October 5, 2024 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 6 Comments

If only I could bring some real crows and ravens along to one of my Raven/Crow presentations; they speak more eloquently for themselves than I could ever do.

This morning they magically appeared to demonstrate many of the things I cover in my talks, in the calendar and here, on my blog.

The crows and I heard the raven at about the same time …

Following the crows, I headed west until I found the source.

For a while, there were only a few crows, mostly keeping a polite distance from the raven while she groomed her feathers in peace.

Gradually, more crows arrived and began to get a little more rowdy.

One crow in particular got up the courage to launch a sneak attack. I love how you can see them pecking the branch aggressively as they advance, building up their nerve for the mission.

The raven, however, was having none of that guff.

The crows got a little more rowdy.

A little dive-bombing ensued.

Still, the raven continued preening and looked quite relaxed.

I feel I should give a shoutout to my companion, Geordie, who had already been waiting patiently beside for me about half an hour at this point.

He accepts that crows are going to mean a slight delay and is always resigned to the fact that ravens are really going to throw a spanner in the walk works.

Philosophically, he lay down to pass the time in comfort.

Good boy!

Things looked to be taking a turn for our raven visitor when I heard a BIG gang of crows coming in from further away.

The raven made one call.

And there, seemingly from nowhere, her* mate arrived.

Note how the crows quickly gave up on the attack.

Two ravens; now that was something to reconsider.

The crows became much quieter and the ravens were clearly happy to be together again.

A few crows swooped half-heartedly by, but our raven couple were oblivious—immersed in affectionate allo-preening and beak play.

The original raven moved away from their mate, ever so politely, to take a poop.

This was their prelude to leaving, flying casually off somewhere to the north.

The crow crowd cawed in corvid victory.

They had ousted the enemy!

Although it seemed more like the barking dog and postie situation, where the house dog feels that their heroic efforts are 100% responsible for the delivery person’s daily retreat.

In less than an hour the obliging crows and ravens illustrated so many points from my talks:

the relative size of crows and ravens
the different calls of crows and ravens
the group action plan of crows
the pair bond between birds
how ravens communicate with their mates over long distances
the affectionate behaviour between raven couples (crows couples also allo-preen, but don’t engage in beak play)

I may have to update a couple of the slides in my presentation with some of these new videos!

* I guessed that the first raven was the female in this couple because of her preening and beak play behaviour. She’s also a lot smaller, which can be a clue — but not always.

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Summer’s End

September 17, 2024September 17, 2024 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 8 Comments

Never mind the calendar, all that equinox stuff, and the availability or otherwise of pumpkin-spiced lattes: the local crows have decided that fall started this morning.

I could tell things had changed as soon as I left the house. While the leaves are turning colour a bit, and it is noticeably chillier, the change in crow behaviour is the real sign of the seasons turning.

Crow air traffic controllers have taken the day off.

Normally boundary-sensitive crows are trespassing on each others’ turf with abandon.

Large groups of crows gather in trees, cawing madly; not the “look out, it’s an eagle/raven/raccoon” -type cawing but the riotous joie de vivre cawing of the autumn crow.

Crows compete with squirrels for newly fallen nuts.

They chase each other and tumble in the air just for fun.

I’m followed by a crowd of unruly crows, with the boldest brushing past an inch from my head and making the dog nervous.

Definitely fall!

I write about this phenomenon, the rowdy, rollicking, freedom-from-fledglings social season, almost every year. Although most of the crows are still suffering the itchiness and indignity of moulting season, it’s a joyful, somewhat lawless time of year in Crowlandia. The crows even look like pirates!

The parents are finally (mostly) free from the ceaseless demands of the fledglings; those fledglings are now teenagers and full of curiosity and daring-do; the trees are full of berries and nuts and banquet lies around every corner; crow rules of etiquette are optional.

There was a second, concrete and non-crow-related sign of a seasonal shift this morning.

As I stopped for a minute while Geordie did some intense tree sniffing, a man rode by on a bicycle. In the passenger seat was a little girl wearing a pink sequinned top and belting out “Jingle Bells” at the top of her lungs.

Clearly, crows and kids both march to their own seasonal drummers!

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Bongo’s Exciting Morning

June 21, 2024 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 6 Comments

Life during nesting season is quite exciting enough for most crows.

Keeping the babies in the nest fed and un-eaten by others provides enough thrills, thank-you very much.

Bongo usually deals with these challenges with expeditious equanimity. Eagle needs chasing — no problem. A cat stalking the nest needs to be schooled — count him in.

Last weekend, however, brought a sudden and (from a crow’s perspective) existential threat: an unprovoked attack from the very sky!

It was a quiet, damp, grey morning as we were walking the dog. Bongo, as usual, was keeping guard from a fence near the nest.

We humans had some warning, having heard hail was in the forecast, but from Bongo’s point of view, it was nothing short of a cataclysm when, suddenly and randomly, the sky declared war.

To his credit, he wasted no time running around and crying “The sky is falling!” but dove immediately under the nearest parked car.

The hail was short-lived and Bongo emerged unscathed — but with newly developed trust issues.

He kept looking at me too. I often find that the crows give me baleful looks in terrible weather, perhaps wondering if it was I who pulled the “make it rain/hail/snow” lever by accident.

In the storm’s immediate aftermath, Bongo’s head would snap up every few seconds to keep an eye on the now unreliable sky.
Inspired by his experience, and as a reminder of how other creatures perceive the world in a different way than we do, I have made a new print, called Up.

In another exciting, but unrelated, Bongo episode it appeared that he’d discovered the magic trick of disappearing his head into the road surface. Perhaps practicing for more hail?

Closer inspection revealed that he was drinking from a teeny, tiny pothole in the road.

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CALENDAR NEWS!
The new City Crow (with guest ravens) calendar is almost ready to go to the printer and it will be available to pre-order on my website very soon. Stay tuned for updates!