Corvid Circus

As winter breathes her chill across the country fields, the snow piles in drifts along the driveway.  But we shall find entertainment abounds in the woods beside the cozy house. I have been spending time watching the Corvids, a particularly intelligent family of birds.

 

The wary American Crow visits.

 Each morning the crows arrive. They have travelled cross country, most likely from the city of Mansfield where they roost by the tens of thousands in the winter. Each morning they disburse looking for food and foraging in nearby fields.

Blue Jay are frequent fliers in the yard.

Generally crows aren't interested in the comings and goings of yard birds, not even their cousin Corvids the Blue Jays.  But snow covered fields makes the winter foraging more difficult.   You can't blame these black beauties for wondering how the jays have trained me to feed them each day.  After all, crows are quite clever.

 

 

 And so the crows come to look, and wait.  Soon they have trained me to toss a variety of goods out the front door: corn, small fruits, sunflower seeds... and the occasional pizza slice.  Once the scout finds treats on the sidewalk, the call (caw?) goes out.  It is more emphatic than the normal roadside chatter.  This a serious business, the scout need to alert the collective group. Food  has been found and it will be shared with the whole  "murder".  Crows are highly sociable beasts.

 

The crows watch as the smaller birds, mostly Blue Jays and American Tree Sparrows work the seed on the ground.  These birds are regulars  and routinely come to the feeders.  They exhibit no fear.  The wary crows watch and wait near the edge of the woods.  American Crows have long been persecuted by farmers and know there is no such thing as a free lunch.

 

At least that's what they thought.  But look, there is a free lunch! And it is pizza!

 

Just a word to those who may believe I am harming the crows by offering the occasional left over pizza. Last week the wise guys got tender roast beef.  These boys are true omnivores and are not all that particular about the fare. In fact, the fresh mice from our snap-traps are a particular delicacy. The only thing which could make these meals more attractive would be a trash can spilled over next to the goods.

 

Then they would believe they were working for their food and it was not just a trap.

 

 

These photos are taken through the window.  Crows in my neighborhood are quite shy of paparazzi.  Given time, I believe they will associate me with the goodies and allow me to better photograph the entire group.

 

But not yet.  For now I am content to watch the "crow show" from behind the window curtains.  They have an interesting pecking order and interact in comic ways.    

  

American Crows are not your typical bird-feeder birds, but then again, I am not your typical bird feeder.  

 



Counting down to a New Year

As each year goes by, it seems that I am having more and more fun.  I think that is a good thing. But honestly, it doesn't take much to make my day.  

 This little American Kestrel, for example, was one high-light of my Crawford County Bird Count.    Out of the corner of my eye, I caught it flying into this protected corner of a barn.

It was perfection in my mind. The right bird in the right place, with his gorgeous colors in perfect contrast to the stark white building and a snow covered barnyard.  I just had to stop at the edge of the road to take his portrait.

After a few photos of the Kestrel, I wanted to document the whole scene.  Consider the distance of the barn from the road. Now you see why I was thrilled to have noticed that movement, that smallest of falcons, as it found shelter from the winter winds. Simply amazing.

Suddenly, the farmer called out, "Hey! What'chu doing over there?"  I backed up my car and spent a few minutes explaining my joy for these little mouse-eating falcons and our Christmas Bird Counts.  He apologized for being gruff, and asked, "What's that bird's name again?"

Seems there were some break-ins recently, but he held his dog and we talked birds for a spell. I admired his handsome farm and his good fortune to have a kestrel on it, and explained why we citizen scientists keep track of the little guys.

I like birds and I sure enjoy birding.  But it feels especially good when we can help someone else see our joy and feel good about the role they play in the life of an American bird.

What could be a more perfect way to end the year?