A dark cloud blackened the sky accompanied by a shrieking wind that rose in volume as the storm approached. Overhead, the cloud transformed, funneling into a vertically shaped tornado of crows, their screams rising as a hurricane. At the apex of the whirling funnel a lone great horned owl powered forward straight across the treetops, strong wings beating hell-bent-for-leather in a beeline to save his own feathered hide. Ahead lie a thick grove of tangled hemlocks and cedars, draped in fox grape and bittersweet.

The owl dived into the thickest of the evergreens and the crows poured right on in, the trees absorbing the black cloud. The shrieking roar continued as reinforcements arrived by the minute from every direction, the morning quiet of the forest torn apart by a firestorm of whirling dervishes with a single unified intent . . . owl destruction. 

Over the next few minutes, the din gradually abated as the crows lost sight of their hated adversary, and within a half hour or so, small parties could be seen flying off in various directions, circling back now and then to scream more obscenities. A few guards were left behind in the treetops to signal any attempted escape.

Thus passed my first meaningful contact with the American crow, and the great horned owl for that  matter, but it was the crows that held me frozen spellbound at the time, and I have been fascinated with them ever since.

I admit it: I like crows. I also admire starlings, herring gulls and house sparrows. These are tough, resilient birds. No need for multi-million dollar wildlife refuges, or emergency endangered species legislation here. These are birds that not only have coped well with the human domination of the planet, but have actually reveled in it. Especially the American crow.

Few bird species have been persecuted by so many for so long as the crow. Shot, poisoned, trapped, sprayed with chemicals, and even dynamited on their roosts. Have their numbers diminished? On the contrary, crow numbers have been increasing steadily, especially here in the east.

To understand this phenomenon, you need to understand crows. Crows belong to a very unique family of birds, the Corvidae. The Corvids include jays, ravens, and other species that have one thing in common -- brains. Crows are highly social and intelligent creatures. They are incredibly adaptive in both food habits and behavior, feeding on Japanese beetle grubs in your lawn sod, raiding a corn patch, and pulling the liver from a road -killed squirrel, all in the course of a good day’s foraging. At the same time they are clever and wary enough to know the good guys from the bad. Frank M. Chapman, the Guru of modern day ornithologists, writing about crows in the 1920’s in his Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America, wrote that "there is a price on his head; every man’s hand is against him. Apparently he does not mind this in the least; in fact, he seems to rejoice in being an outlaw. As for fear, I doubt if he knows what it means; he has far too much confidence in his undoubted ability to escape his human persecutors.

He laughs at their attempts to entrap him; his insolent assurance is admirable. For several centuries man has been his sworn enemy, nevertheless he appears to have held his own, accepting and adjusting himself to every new condition. "Chapman’s words are as true today as they were then. Consider the crow that nonchalantly pries out the choice cuts from a road kill as cars pass by within inches at 60 mph. This is the same bird that takes flight from a tree top perch at 200 yards when you crack your kitchen window to peer at him with a pair of binoculars. It’s no wonder these birds are successful!

As our towns and cities grew throughout the last three centuries, so did our garbage dumps and landfills. These areas were always sited on the unused outskirts of the city, areas that were then considered "wasteland". Unfortunately for us, as it turns out, these were often marshes and other wetlands. Sedge wrens, rails, raptors and waterfowl were put out of business. Crows, on the other hand, were in their glory, and quickly made the most out of these huge smorgasbords. Their populations increased dramatically. Unlike cornfields and apple orchards, here was a year-round, unlimited and dependable food supply. That is, until resource recovery came along and closed the restaurant for crows, gulls, and some other scavengers. Biologists have noted the beginning of a decline in the herring gulls, but not crows. They seem to be holding their own, or even increasing here in Connecticut. Unlike gulls, they are simply more intelligent and infinitely adaptive.Crow brains and sociality are perhaps most evident in their language. Hundreds of variations on the single "caw" theme are evident from those who study such things. Derek Goodwin, in his Crows of the World, identifies at least 13 different calls, each with its own meaning and set of crow responses.

Have you ever heard crows utter the rattling notes that are suggestive of a woodpecker’s tapping? Goodwin suggests this is a self-assertive call made by birds near their mate or roost.

Crows are constantly communicating with one another. This is one stratagem of their success. Their calls indicate danger, food, recognition and contact and are critically important to the psyche of the species. Crows begin their daily communications with each other from the first  hint of dawn until dark, a habit that together with their propensity to favor suburban settings has earned them no human friends in suburbia.

The screaming, scolding and assembly calls that reverberated through the woods as the mob of crows pursued the horned owl mentioned previously served to alert and inspire all crows within hearing of the presence of the single most feared predator of all crows, the great horned owl.

No other predator causes greater alarm and concern among crows than this "flying tiger", and for  good reason. Owls take good advantage of the crow’s habit of spending the night in large, communal roosts. Moving in on silent wings under the cover of darkness, the horned owl easily moves from perch to perch , casually plucking off crows right and left. With such easy pickings afforded to him, the owl commonly rips the head off his unfortunate victim, swallows it in one gulp, and moves along,discarding the rest. After a couple of crows have been thus dispatched, the satisfied owl departs, leaving the rest of the crows, as one may imagine, in a somewhat terrified state.

However, if and when the crows discover an owl unprotected during daylight hours, all hell breaks loose and every crow for miles assembles in an attempt to kill, or at least drive off  the demon. With hundreds of screaming black hornets hounding him, the all-powerful horned owl abandons any hope of defense except fast, direct escape and concealment You gotta love those crows!

American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos)
Description:
17" to 21". A large, heavy-set, all black bird. Appears glossy in strong light. Strong bill and feet.

Range:
Most of the continental United States except the Pacific Northwest, and some parts ofsouthern California Baja and south Texas.

Food:

• Feeds mostly on the ground, but also in trees.
• About 28% of the food is animal in origin, including insects, especially beetles and theirlarvae, grasshoppers, crickets, and others invertebrates; also reptiles, amphibians, mammals, eggs, young birds and carrion.

• The mainly vegetable diet includes cultivated grain, especially corn, also wild seeds, and wild and cultivated fruits and nuts.

• Habitually scavenges around landfills and slaughterhouses.

Nesting:

• Nests in trees, often conifers, from 10’ - 25’ from the ground; usually singly, but sometimes in small colonies, especially in the west.

• The nest usually consists of sticks and tough stems with an inner layer of fibrous bark and lined  with fine roots, hair, fur, moss or fine grasses.

• The 3 to 6 eggs are highly variable, being bluish green, pale olive, or greenish white, mottled, speckled, or streaked with drab brown and grayish underlying markings.

• Incubation lasts 18 days and the young fledge at about 35 days

Voice:
The usual call is a short "caah" with a quick rise in inflection at the beginning and almost as quick a fall at the end.

Archived from CT Audubon Society News Copyright Connecticut Audubon Society Reuse by Permission Only