The minute I open the door, they start in. They refuse to shut up. And, they're damn loud. We have a pair of crows who have taken up residence here. Besides stealing the squirrels' peanuts, this pair decided to start a family here in our yard. The birthing place, I've recently discovered, is in our willow tree near the barnyard.
I didn't know about their family situation until the other day when I heard them yakking up a storm right after hearing something of substance obviously drop to the ground. Their squawking intensified. Finally, I walked over to the area near the hazelnut tree to see what was the matter. After passing the big bush near the bunkhouse, I spotted a black bird, bigger than any of our robins or obnoxious starlings but smaller than the crows. It was hobbling across the lawn.
The visitor had a long beak and big green eyes. At first, I figured I'd never seen such a bird before, surmising that it must be some strange species that flew in for a brief stop-over, just like the cattle egret which stayed for one day earlier this spring. But, the crow couple just above my head, got louder and louder, as I approached the odd little cripple slowly making its way across the lawn.
I did not want a cat or dog to get the bird, so I picked it up. It protested loudly with a sound much like I was hearing from just above. It turned its head and tried to peck me, but I held it in such a way that the attack was not possible. After a moment, the awkward-looking youngster submitted and agreed to go along for the ride as I carried it to the fenced-in garden spot where dogs or cats couldn't pounce. All the while, the by-now obvious parents, swooped and cawed overhead.
I became a marked person in their book. They now watch me with the vigilance of a peeping Tom. I'm wondering if they keep track of my movements within the house so that the instant I open the door, they're ready to complain. And, complain they do while flying from treetop to treetop as I walk out the driveway for the mail or the paper. I'm guessing their child survived its injury and somehow found its way back to the nesting area. Yesterday, once more, I spotted it standing on the ground beneath the willow tree. This time, the youngster took a walk out the driveway with Mom and Dad keeping track of every move.
I've found crows to be most fascinating birds this year, especially while watching our husband-wife pair team up to chase off a hawk which dared to cross their flight pattern. As one spouse circled in the air above me and kept watch on my every move, the other (more than likely the hubby) chased the hawk through the sky, making every effort to inflict punishment through at least a dozen dive bombs. Finally, the hawk wisely reached the edge of crow territory and flew off to safety as Hubby Crow returned to his lover.
The other day, while sitting in the peaceful bliss of my window-lined living room, I watched as one of our cats left a worn-out mouse in the front yard. Within seconds of Festus' departure, one of our crow unit swooped in, grabbed the mouse and flew off---no doubt to give Junior Crow a treat.
I hope this married couple gets over their disdain for me soon because I'd love to walk outside and enjoy a quiet moment. As long as Junior keeps leaving his nest, though, I think I'm doomed to a summer of crow cacophony.
Where are chickadees when you need them?
2 comments:
Crows are fascinating and their antics can be the stuff of drama. Socially, the remind me very much of the parrots that inhabited one of the trees in our yard in Venezuela. There is clearly a social hierarchy, and there is much interdependence. I think that crows may well be the most intelligent of birds. They can be taught to talk as can parrots, but they've also been known to make and use tools. There was an experiment a few years ago that established that crows would reshape a straight wire to form a hook to help them remove food from the bottom of a bottle. I've known people that would have been hard-pressed to think of that. I've personally observed them picking up sacks with food from dumpsters to fly to a safe spot, open the bag, and remove the food.
Like I say, fascinating to watch 'em.
MJB
Marianne,
I was under the impression that you were never supposed to pick up a bird that had fallen out of a nest or period because the parents would ignore it, attack it or abandon it.
Perhaps that's a myth? Just a thing to keep in mind.
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