The damn hawks are cramping my style

Let us begin with a picture of loveliness. How can you not love this crow? And yet, something lurks above, threatening this bird's freedom to roam.

Earlier this summer, I heard shrieks coming from an overgrown area of the farm. It was a hawk hatchling, crying for its mother to bring it food. This went on for a couple of weeks. And then one day there were two hawks in the sky, one smaller than the other. That's when the problem started. They want to eat my crows. How dare they?!

In case you're just tuning in, I feed crows. They're so smart, I can't help myself. They're almost like people. Anyway, I didn't realize how bad the situation had gotten until one day I did what I always do: headed out with a bag of seeds and peanuts and called "Crow!" As always, the crows headed for my voice. They'll do anything for peanuts, the food of the gods.

I looked up and saw a few crows in the sky, heading toward me -- and right above them were two hawks. It was almost a crowtastrophe! The crows realized they were threatened, freaked and flew away. No one was hurt. The sad part is that for days afterward, they thought I was in cahoots with the hawks. I was like, "Me?! Me?! The guy who feeds you daily?!" But crows are suspicious. They can't help it, it's their nature.

So I had to rework my whole routine. The hawks had learned that me screaming "Crow!" meant delicious crows were on the way.

Shortly afterward, one of the crows -- the one in the photo, I think -- talked to me from the tree in front of my house. He spoke to me in the soft voice, the one crows reserve for friends. It's not the ugly cawing sound; it's very pretty. He was trying to tell me something. Meanwhile, construction workers saw me seemingly talking to the air and asked who I was talking to. I said, "a crow". They just shook their heads in pity and looked away. But I thought I understood the crow's message.  I knew what he wanted me to do.

He wanted me to be silent. So now I feed the crows without calling them. I just head out, they see me, and they come. No hawks at all. Mind you, they're still there. But they've discovered another food source: wild turkeys. I saw them swooping down on a group of 10 or so unfortunate hens. Jeepers. But at least it wasn't my crows.

This has been your slice of crow/farm life. I hope you enjoyed it. As for me, I gotta go feed the crows. And you can bet I'll be silent as I do it.

One more view of Crow. Ain't he fine?

Great crow story

I've been feeding a family of crows for over three years. I enjoy their company so much. It's not like we've become friends, exactly. They don't fly to my arm when I call them, or anything like that. But in other ways, they let you know that they like you.

For instance, when I go for a walk they come with me. There's almost always a crow circling overhead. And when they want me to notice them (i.e., when they want me to feed them), they soar through my field of vision, looping this way and that. When they do this, they remind me of kids who want attention. There's something both familiar and childish in their antics.

But...I've never gotten a gift from them (or at least, I never noticed a gift). This girl had a different experience. I loved the story. And hey, the crows really, really like her! (The link leads to Jerry Coyne's web site.)

PS: If you'd like to make friends with a crow, all you need is unsalted peanuts (still in the shell). Toss some out at a regular time of day, and soon you'll have crows as regular visitors.

Talkin' crow

This is my friend Crow sitting out on the ice in the morning, waiting for me to wake up. It may be the holidays but not for crows. Every day is about getting that next meal. Look at this poor guy! It's scary. As I understand it, birds have to maintain an internal temperature of about 105 degrees. How does a bird survive northeast winters? I don't get it.

Some mornings he'll be waiting for me high in a tree, perched on a leafless branch that provides no cover. He just sits there, constantly buffeted by the wind, and waits for me. How do they do this?

Ah, but this post is about talkin' crow so I'd best move on. And by talkin' crow, I mean me talkin' crow. Here's how it happened. I noticed that one crow (who I think is my original pal, Crow) alerts the others when I throw out the peanuts. He gives three short, almost connected caws: "Ca-ca-ca!" This means, "Dinner is served!" (or possibly, "The fool is throwing away perfectly good peanuts again!" I'm not sure.)

So now when I throw out the morning's peanuts I announce it with their call, doing my best impersonation of, "Ca-ca-ca!" I must say Crow looks at me oddly when I do this. He tilts his head to the side and locks eyes with me for a moment. But then it's all peanuts all the time, so it's not like my language skills hold his attention for long.

I will feed Crow and his family until the day I die. He can count on it. And I sure wish Spring would come soon so he could be warm again (and I could watch baseball).