WINTER’S WILDLIFE STUART WINTER Ravens thriving beyond Tower PLANT of the week Crocus ‘Jeanne d’Arc’
In biting winds under moody grey skies, the winter woodlands around me were unsurprisingly devoid of songbirds hunkered down to escape the cold.
Yet one bird’s ominous outline could be seen amid the dreariness – the distinctive ‘flying cross’ shape of a raven on the wing.
As bulky as a buzzard and with a long diamond-shaped tail, the raven is a huge bird with a honking cry that carries far.
Ravens thrive in the cold. I have seen them trailing polar bears in the Canadian Arctic, eyes primed for blubbery seal scraps.
Winter in the Chilterns must seem balmy for them – but for too long their distinctive silhouettes have been absent from southern England – apart from of course at the Tower of London where legend states their presence ensures the survival of the Crown.
Persecuted as vermin during the 19th century, ravens were driven to the remotest parts of Britain.
More enlightened times have brought about something of a renaissance – and over the past decade there has been a 20% population increase to an estimated 10,000 breeding pairs.
Every walk along the chalk ridges near my home invariably produces a honk of a distant raven and, if I am lucky, the sight of two birds (they are monogamous and pairs bond for life) flying leisurely overhead with distinctive wing beats.
However, I was not anticipating seeing many birds at all on this particular lockdown stroll. A few fieldfares, dazzling-winged goldfinches and a rasping grey partridge looked the scant rewards for a long slog with the dog.
Then came the bugle of a raven, followed by a second. Unexpectedly, there was a third. A deer carcass was creating a scene you might expect from ravenous vultures in the Serengeti. Up to 16 were feasting, keeping the red kites at bay and dwarfing carrion crows waiting their turn.
Once described as the “great requiem bird of myth and legend”, ravens should be cherished rather than seen as portents of doom. Long may they fly over us.
Persecuted long ago as vermin they are now having a renaissance
Have you spotted any crocus yet? They’re just starting to emerge – the most familiar being the purple and yellow varieties you sometimes see naturalised in lawns.
My favourite is the big white one, ‘Jeanne d’Arc’ – when the goblet flowers open in the sun, they are the size of a golf ball. A valuable source of early nectar for the bees and a cheering sight for the rest of us. Plant corms in autumn in a well-drained, sunny situation.