It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life."
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Bird and I were savoring the warmth of this spring day from the sandbox. Her shoes and socks were strewn on the ground to the side. The sand was clammy and cold, and the three-year-old was fervently working on filling containers and then flipping the molds out. A variety of bugs had taken up residence in the sandbox, during the many months we had left it closed up. I used a play shovel to remove them gently, one by one, at her insistence. The gentle part was my requirement, and I tarried a moment with each shovelful so that she might see these small beings up close in a benign way. They mean her no harm, I repeated, they are just living their lives. Lucky them, finding our sandbox as a nice home away from the winter cold.
All of a sudden, we were greeted by loud and resounding bird chatter, with the most discernible voices being piercing caws from humble crows. Looking up, I witnessed swarms of crows – a murder, as it were – in the air above, wildly circling one another and the winter trees. My glance shifted high into the treetops, madly searching for the focus or goal of all this ruckus, and I saw the branches bustling and swaying, quite literally in motion. It was a scene from a Hitchcock movie, and I stood there transfixed. What in the world?
Quick – Merlin app to the rescue, what am I hearing?
Rapid fire pulsating response from the wizard in fifteen brief seconds, highlighting over and over: Fish Crow and American Crow, with Tufted Titmouse, Song Sparrow, and American Robin sprinkled in, once or twice.
What is the difference between a Fish Crow and an American Crow? I need to read up on this; all the crows look very much the same, from this distance. It seemed to me that one large tree held about a dozen wiggling, busy crows, and a neighboring tree held another dozen or so, with other crows flying about, darting between the two trees. All the birds were calling out harshly, creating a huge commotion.
Were the American Crows in one tree and the Fish Crows in the other? Or were they all mixed up together? How do I tell them apart? Was this some sort of argument? Who offended whom? Or were they worried on behalf of someone else? Was someone’s nest being harmed and they were all there to support the injured party? Or ward off the interloper?
We went back to our sandbox play, not knowing any answers. Then, perhaps ten minutes later, all the crowing stopped. It was peaceful again. The trees were emptied now. Where did the crows go? How did I miss their departure?
Think of that adage – “nothing to crow about,” as in, being less than worthwhile. Hmm. I think this is rather condescending to crows. Today’s tumult was very unusual. I have no doubt that there was a real reason for their uproar. They were obviously seeking to be heard and understood, in fact, they were demanding to be.
Clearly, there WAS something to crow about. I just didn’t know what. How do I know it’s not meaningful?
crow full fish crow American crow fuss crow fume crow this way that way a real crow’s nest crow over crow about swoop crow loud crow this is the way crow flies definitely something though I know not what
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Maureen,
You heard a crow choir, but I suspect this collection of cawers created a cacophony rather than harmony. How did you explain the bird “murder”? to Bird? Did it divert her attention from bugs? Love that chalk art, too.
It was really something! Truth be told, I didn’t use the word ‘murder’ with Bird. Thanks, Glenda.
Yes, it does sound like something Out of a Hitchcock movie. I was not aware that there were different kinds of crows. I bet the silence was deafening when they left.
When the crows left, we were able to converse again Thanks for commenting!
Interesting! I have never heard of Fish Crow. Now I need to go reading. At first I thought the crows were noticing the bugs you were taking out of the sand box. A small feast for a few birds. But this seems like is was a larger convention of birds. It would be interesting to know.
Maureen, I am always amazed at the sudden appearance of an enormous number of birds. I know I posted a video once of a bunch of blackbirds that landed in the trees below our house and all the racket they were making. Love your poem. I was pulled into the word play, rhythm, and sound. I so appreciated your closing photo and quote!
Maureen, it’s getting closer to March 15, when the great migration begins. I honestly believe they are early this year. I had a Baltimore Oriole in my yard and saw it and picked it up on Merlin twice a week ago, and I was politely told by the Cornell people that that would not happen before March 15th at the earliest. People in North Georgia are posting hummingbirds. HUMMINGBIRDS already. These birds are on the move, and maybe that’s why we are seeing so many. I had the same thing with hundreds of red winged blackbirds that flew over a few weeks ago. It’s creepy when that many show up and get loud. Glad you have Merlin to help with who’s who!
Maureen, thanks for sharing this little encounter with the living creature insects sharing the sandbox for the winter, and the scary crows. Wow. That was interesting, I’m sure. I’m trying to think of what children’s rhyme your Crow poem reminds me of. (I’ll tell you when I remember, but it’s late and my mind has lost its way.)