Hawks and Crows

Crows coming from all directions to answer an alarm call.

It finally got warm enough in Seattle that I needed to open all the doors and windows last week.  (Friday it passed 70 degrees for the first time since last November).  In the early afternoon I was working in the back of the house when I heard an ungodly racket outside.  I looked out the back door, and saw crows flying in from all directions.  They were cawing and raising the alarm, and it looked like they were headed right for my house.  When I got outside they were wheeling overhead, taking turns diving at the upper branches of the tall dogwood tree next door.  I couldn't see what they were after, but I had a good suspicion what it might be.

I've seen this before.  Even though crows are spread thinner here than they are in the more urban parts of the city, they can gather very quickly in a crisis.  And when the crows are upset, it pays to follow them.  

Once, when I was in the park with my friend and our two dogs, we heard the crows raising hell and followed the sound to a tall tree just off the path.  A  Barred Owl was hunkered down in the crook of a branch, being harried by crows.  Just to make the tableau even more magical, a hummingbird was darting around in the upper branches, picking out insects, oblivious to all the noise the larger creatures were making (as hummingbirds often are). 

Crows "counting coup" on an unseen enemy.

 

You don't always get quite that much pay off, but every time I've ever seen an owl in the wild, it's been because crows led me to them.  And they can lead you to other big predators too.

Red-Tailed Hawk (at bottom) pursued by angry crows.

One afternoon last fall the crows started raising a ruckus.  This time, they were zeroing in on a tree across the street -- one that has an old abandoned crow nest in the top, which you can see in the winter when the leaves are gone.  They swirled around and attacked that tree for half an hour or more, before their quarry got tired and made  break for it.  That time, I was able to chase the fleeing bird with my camera as the crows chased him across the sky.  When I got the pictures uploaded and zoomed in, I could tell exactly what it was:  A Red-Tailed Hawk.

Young Cooper's Hawk from last summer.

 Hawks are not uncommon in Seattle.  I took these photos of a young Cooper's Hawk in Westcrest Park, just up the hill from where I live, late last summer.  While I was watching him, he was calling and responding to at least one other Hawk that I never saw.  As birds go around here, the big hawks like Cooper's and Red-Tails are pretty much apex predators.  Top of the food chain.  Of course, there are Bald Eagles in the city too, but they're more interested in carrion and when they do go after prey it's usually fish -- size and the whole national symbol thing notwithstanding, they just aren't the hunter's that the big hawks are. North of here, in the San Juan Islands, and across the mountains in Eastern Washington, there are Golden Eagles, enormous birds and very serious hunters.  But you almost never see them around the city.  (I've had the privilege of being very close to both Bald and Golden Eagles while volunteering at a wildlife rehabilitation center -- I've also been close to hawks, and have even handled some of the smaller hawks.  But I've never handled anything as big as Red-Tail or a Cooper's Hawk.)

Hawks and crows are on the opposite ends of the sociability spectrum.  Raptors tend to be solitary, or to live as mated pairs.  Both Cooper's and Red-Tails are believed to mate for life, a pair staying together until one of them dies.  But crows are among the most social of birds, and that is really where their advantage comes in.  The larger and more powerful raptors are no match for a mob of crows.  (And mob is really the appropriate word.)  I find this fascinating because it seems so similar to what probably gave humans the edge in our early history -- we weren't stronger or faster or more powerful than most of the animals around us, but we were smarter, and we knew how to work together.  Crow are one of the most intelligent birds, and they seem to understand the value of cooperative behavior.  (I've read accounts of crows hunting in small groups, forcing smaller birds to fly into buildings so they can eat them.)  

I've spent a lot of time watching and following crows.  They almost always lead me to something interesting.

RELATED POSTS

Crows

 Dog Days, Raven Nights

And on BOOKS AND BEASTS

Ravens in Winter

If you like Birdland West, you might also want to check out our sister blog Books and Beasts, which focuses on reviews of books about animals and related topics.

(Many of the original photographs featured on Birdland West are available for sale as art quality prints.  You can check out all of our offerings at http://AlexWashoe.imagekind.com. If you see an image here that does not show up on our Imagekind site please contact me directly and I'll let you know about availability.)

Crows

(This post is partially a follow-up to my earlier Corvid post Dog Days, Raven Nights.)

Since we were talking about Corvids, let's talk about crows.  

There is a local Seattle writer -- Lyanda Lynn Haupt -- who wrote a great book called Crow Planet.  I was lucky enough to see her at Elliott Bay Bookstore just after the book came out.  (She also has a wonderful blog focused on "new home economics" called "The Tangled Nest".  Everyone should check it out.)  Lyanda Haupt shares one of my great interests -- the way we interact on a daily basis with wildlife, and the often surprising ways that we share our urban space with other creatures.  

Crow Planet

In her book, she recounts how she decided to treat every trip out of her house, around town, the way a naturalist would treat going into the field.  She took her binoculars with her everywhere.  And of course, living in the city, the easiest creature to observe is the crow.  They are so amazing, and so creative, as Ms. Haupt maintains, that anyone who spends much time observing them is guaranteed to see them doing something that no one has ever seen or recorded before.

I'm not really fond of binoculars.  I prefer my camera.  Since moving from Ballard to West Seattle, I've had less chance to observe crows than I used to.  They're here, to be sure, but they are not the dominant form of wildlife that they are in Ballard.  The crows here co-exist with a much wider range of bird life than they do in more urban areas, including other highly intelligent, assertive species like Steller's Jays.  And for some reason, the crows that are around don't like my front yard, which is much lower than the sidewalk and forms a closed in depression.  They prefer the open, sloping yards on the other side of the street.

Crow business.

Yesterday, however, I got a great opportunity to observe a crow going about his typical crow business.  (I say "he" -- honestly, it is nearly impossible to tell the sex of a crow.  I've held them in my hands and would have no idea of their gender.  Typically male crows are a little larger on average, but the variation in crow size is great enough that size won't really do you much good in sexing them).  

Lulubelle and Zeke survey the neighborhood.

 It was a beautiful afternoon and there was a Mariners game on the radio (they lost it in thirteen innings -- the second overtime loss this week -- sigh).  My dogs were enjoying the afternoon on the front deck, and I knocked off work a little early to join them.  At one point my dog Lulubelle started barking ferociously -- which usually means there's another dog around -- or she's seen the rat or a squirrel -- but this time she was barking at a crow which had landed on top of my old blue Subaru.  Her ruckus scared the crow away, but a few minutes later he was back, and this time he landed on my neighbor's trash can.  After that, the pictures pretty much speak for themselves.

Crows are omnivores, of course, like humans.  They will eat just about anything.  (But they can be picky.  For instance, a study at the University of Washington found that given a choice between fried potatoes in a plain white sack, and the same potatoes in a brightly colored fast food sack, crows will almost always go for the fast food sack.) 

In some of the pictures, this crow seems to have blue eyes.  That might just be a trick of the light, but if his eyes are really still blue, it means he's still a young crow,  a fledgling.  But I didn't see any other crows around at that time, and it would be unlikely for a fledgling to be out all alone.

Lyanda Lynn Haupt, by the way, has written two other very good books.  Rare Encounters with Ordinary Birds, and Pilgrim on the Great Bird Continent.  I would encourage all bird and wildlife lovers to check out her work.  She has a wonderful sensibility for the urban naturalist.

RELATED POSTS  

Hawks and Crows
Dog Days and Raven Nights
Sizing Up Songbirds

I am very pleased to announce that Birdland West hit a new milestone recently:  We had more than 100 hits in a single day.  That means there are a lot of you out there who are at least stopping by to check us out now and then.  If you like the blog I would encourage you to follow us, and leave feedback.  I'd love to hear input from the people who read Birdland West.  And if you really like us, then share us with others.  Feel free to pass us on by word of mouth, Twitter, Facebook, or whatever means you prefer. You might also want to check out our sister blog Books and Beasts, which focuses on reviews of books about animals and related topics.

(Many of the original photographs featured on Birdland West are available for sale as art quality prints.  You can check out all of our offerings at http://AlexWashoe.imagekind.com. If you see an image here that does not show up on our Imagekind site please contact me directly and I'll let you know about availability.)

Dog Days, Raven Nights

I've been sick the last few days so I haven't had much chance to get out in the yard.  Still, spring is going on and the flowers are blooming.  The cherry tree outside my living room window is in full bloom and looking very beautiful.  

Dog Days, Raven Nights

I did attend a very interesting event at Seattle's Town Hall last week.  Every once in a while you hear about a book that seems so perfect that you think it could have been written just for you.  That's how I felt when I saw the title of John and Colleen Marzluff's new book Dog Days, Raven Nights.  It's the story of two young scientists (John and Colleen) who set out to the Maine woods in search of Ravens, and who become involved along the way with dog sledding and sled dogs.  Corvids and canines in one book!

In the Company of Crows and Ravens

For those of you who don't know about John Marzluff, he teaches at the University of Washington in the College of the Environment, where he is a professor of Wildlife Biology.  He is also one of the world's leading experts on crows and other corvids.  His previous book, In the Company of Crows and Ravens, which he wrote with local artist Tony Angell (you have to check out his artwork if you never have:  here) helped spark my interest in crows and eventually other birds as well.  There's also a great episode of the PBS show Nature that focuses on his work with crows here in Seattle. (Check it out here)  He and his students have done some great experiments, tagging and recording crows to learn more about their lives.  I recommend this show to anyone who's interested in very intelligent birds.  

For the Town Hall event though, they were talking about their new book, so the focus was mostly on Ravens.  Twenty years ago, when Marzluff was a young Postdoc looking for his first job, he and his wife Colleen travelled to Maine to work with the famous biologist Bernd Heinrich (you can see my review of Heinrich's own book about the time, Ravens in Winter at our sister blog Booksand Beasts).  

Crows are omnivores, and frequently scavenge road-kill.

When I lived in Ballard, a much more urban area, crows were definitely the most dominant birds around.  In fact, in Ballard, there is a running squabble between crows and seagulls that is fascinating to watch.   Crows, in my experience (and Marzluff seems to agree with this) are almost unique among wild animals in the amount of attention they pay to human beings.  They really do seem to be curious about us, and to go out of their way to observe us and interact with us.  Marzluff believes that crows (and ravens too, and maybe some other species as well) are co-evolving with humans.  Ravens follow wolf packs and other predators in search of food, so it's very likely that they learned to follow early human groups for the same reason.  Crows are even more closely bound to us.  They have literally followed us across the continent (the American Crow -- the bird almost everyone is familiar with -- is native to the Eastern United states, but like the Virginia Opossum and the Eastern Gray Squirrel it now resides almost everywhere we do.)  Crows have become the consummate urban bird, and the stories of their intelligence and cunning are endless.

While living in Maine, Colleen Marzluff also became involved in raising and racing sled dogs.  Anyone who has ever taken a walk (or a drive) across town with me knows that I can be instantly distracted by the sight of an interesting dog.  (Okay, all dogs are interesting).  But if a Malamute happens by, you've lost my attention entirely.  Learning to drive a dog sled is one of my bucket list items.  This part of the book, as well as the fascinating descriptions of the work with the Ravens, could have been written just for me.

Steller's Jays are also members of the Corvid family.

I got to speak to Marzluff briefly at the book signing and I mentioned the frequent Raven sightings in West Crest Park, just up the hill form me here in West Seattle.  He told me that there was a pair of crows nesting on Mercer Island, which might be crossing over to West Seattle.  But he also told me that someone else had reported a pair in Lincoln Park (which is just down the hill from me).  He was very interested in learning more about any ravens nesting in this area, and so am I.  So if any West Seattle readers (if I have any) know anything more about ravens in West Crest or Lincoln Parks, or anywhere in the area, I'd love to hear from you.

Like Ravens in Winter, which is one of my favorite non-fiction books, Dog Days, Raven Nights is a wonderful book for getting a taste of what the day to day work of doing science in the field is really like.  And the book is full of sled dogs and ravens.  What more could you ask?

Related Posts

Crows

Turf Wars

Birds of Winter

And on Books and Beasts

Ravens in Winter

(Many of the original photograph featured on Birdland West are available for sale as art quality prints.  You can check out all of our offerings at http://AlexWashoe.imagekind.com. If you see an image here that does not show up on our Imagekind site please contact me directly and I'll let you know about availability.)