Wonder of Ravens
Ruth Miller on the sight that greeted her from her kitchen window
Washing up at the kitchen sink is never anyone’s favourite activity, but birds can relieve the boredom of housework! In our case, Ravens often provide our entertainment. We can look across the rooftops towards a steep limestone cliff towering over the town of Llandudno; and about halfway up is a ledge that has been home to several successive generations of Ravens.
The Ravens’ nest is just visible as a tangle of sticks and twigs accumulated on a narrow buttress. It might look rough on the outside, but inside it is lined with grass, moss, and scraps of sheep’s wool, making a snug nest for the clutch of between three to seven eggs.
It needs to be cosy, for Ravens are early nesters, usually laying eggs at the end of February. This year, we’d noticed the adult birds carrying twigs in their bills on our regular lockdown walks on the Great Orme at the beginning of February, but had dismissed this as too early to be serious nest-building activity. However, on Sunday 7 February – Sunday lunch took much longer to wash up that day! – we saw the unmistakable sight of a changeover on the nest. One adult was sitting on the nest, the second flew in. The first bird stood up and flew off, the second moved in and sat down.
It was all over in a matter of seconds and then it was the returning bird’s turn to incubate the eggs. Wow, so early! We couldn’t really believe they were incubating so early, so we paid attention and witnessed another changeover the following day. Amazing! We hoped they wouldn’t regret this early start as the freezing weather of the Beast from the East started to kick in.
Incubation takes about 18 days, so we kept our eye on progress and looked for signs of the fledglings around the end of February. Young Ravens fledge the nest after about 38 days and remain with their parents to learn the ropes of Ravenhood for about six months, so we look forward to plenty of sightings over the months to come.
Barrel rolls
Ravens are a species that we encounter regularly here on the North Wales coast. They are distinctive in flight, with deep powerful wingbeats you can actually hear from a distance, and a diagnostic diamond-shaped tail. They are strong flyers and unlike some species which seem to meander casually as they fly, Ravens are purposeful, flying directly from A to B on a mission. They have a neat flying trick up their sleeve too: the barrel roll.
In mid-flight, a Raven can suddenly roll 180° onto its back for a heartbeat or two and then roll back over the right way up again, and for no apparent reason, at least not to our human eyes. Is this just for fun, because they can? Are they showing off to other birds, or to other Ravens saying “Hey, look at me, see how fit I am, I can do this, can you?” Occasionally we have seen a Raven do this in anger, for example as it was being mobbed by a Peregrine, neither bird willing to give quarter to the other and both birds with nests nearby. On that occasion, the Raven made a complete rollover, presenting its talons towards the belly of the Peregrine as it did so, but this was an act of defence and far removed from the lazy flipflop of a show-off Raven.
Ravens have a muscular neck with slightly loose, long feathers, almost giving the impression of wearing a buff around the neck, and a large, heavy bill, perfect for eating carrion as well as small mammals, other birds and their eggs. Perhaps this has contributed to their bad reputation and been the reason for their persecution at the hands of some gamekeepers and farmers. But what about the myths attached to this impressive bird? Across Europe, Ravens are associated with evil, believed in France to be the souls of wicked priests, and held in German folklore as the incarnation of the Devil himself, while in Sweden the croak of a Raven at night was said to be the voice of a murder victim crying out for a Christian burial.
This latter seems rather harsh for a bird that has such an impressive array of vocalisations. Scientists have been able to allocate their various vocal sounds, ranging from kronks to gurgles to shrill alarm calls, into at least 33 different categories depending on the sound itself and the context in which it is uttered. That is a lot of communication going on between these birds, who also have the ability to imitate other bird species.
All corvids are smart, but Ravens perhaps show even more intelligence than most. They have the ability to analyse, and in scientific studies have been able to deduce and carry out the correct sequence of consecutive activities to achieve their desired reward – food. In the wild, Ravens may hide their food for later consumption, and if they think another bird is watching, they may pretend to hide it in one location while actually caching it somewhere else.
Conversely, Ravens have been recorded working in tandem to steal another animal’s food, one acting as the decoy while the other steals the meal. They can recognise the faces of other Ravens and apparently even human faces, too, remembering who may have treated them positively, and even bearing a grudge against someone who has not.
With a lifespan of about 17 years in the wild, it looks as though we’ll be able to enjoy ‘our’ Ravens in Llandudno for plenty more years to come. And who knows, maybe they’ll even start to recognise us on our Great Orme exercise walks, or perhaps as we’re washing up at the kitchen sink!