I remember many years ago driving on Highway 1 approaching the Willingdon exit in Vancouver/Burnaby. We may have been coming from Mom's at Cultus Lake which means that was more than a decade ago. It was dusk and I was struck by the sight of a sky full of crows coming from all directions. More striking yet was realizing that they were all converging on the same place. It was a stand of tall trees near the highway's edge. I could see each crow's singular intent to get to that stand of trees. I could also see that the trees were already filled with crows. With ever more coming. It was fantastic.
Sometime after that I read an article that talked about this phenomenon. For reasons I now don't remember, crows throughout Greater Vancouver gathered together each night. For reasons no one seemed to know, they had chosen this particular stand of trees as their night-time home.
Every evening, they would leave the place where they'd spent their day, poking and pecking and causing a ruckus, to fly back to this stand of trees. It was fascinating.
Yet, at that time and for many years later, I was annoyed by crows. They were loud, they were aggressive, they were impolite. (So were Steller's Jays, mind you, but with their bright blue plumage, they seemed so much prettier than crows.)
But I'm not annoyed by crows any more. On the contrary, I now have a deep appreciation for crows.
So what changed?
It started about two years ago, I was driving up a local street towards home. It was pouring rain. Miserable, cold, winter rain in Vancouver. I passed a construction fence and saw a pair of crows huddled together on the bridge of the fence. One of them was protecting the other. Not just two crows. A couple.That made me watch crows much more closely.
I noticed more crow couples.
I noticed how clever they were...
I saw that, every week, my neighbours would set out their garbage can and firmly place the lid on it. But every week we'd all experience the results... food and other aromatic stuff strewn across our road. The crows would magically pull things out and make a mess.
So one day I watched what was happening. I figured out the fatal flaw. Although my neighbours would firmly place the lid on the trash can, they didn't line up the lid handles with the garbage can handles. As soon as they drove away in the morning, the local crow would fly down, stand on the garbage can handle and flick the lid off. Perfect leverage. Then he'd (she'd?) set about poking and pecking to find the good stuff in the bags inside. It was brilliant. I now refer to the local crows as our crows... the 'House Crows', to be exact. I've seen them huddle on the wire over our driveway in the Vancouver rain. I've seen them build their nest in our neighbour's tree (I just peek through the curtains - they won't go near the nest if they see me watching.) I've seen them swoop, dive and chase my dog when they thought he was getting too close.
And yes, I confess, I have fed them from time to time. I'm not sure the dog is happy, because I give them his protein doggie treats. (So maybe they were swooping and diving as a way of rubbing salt in his wounds?)
I love to observe them. I take a few photos from time to time.
I also love to see how others see crows. And to see the really great photos that others take. For this, I suggest that you do what I do, and follow @Crowtographer on Twitter.
Why?
Because crows. And superb images. And empathy and respect.
