Western Morning News (Saturday)
Heavyweight ruler of our crow kingdom
Members of the crow family may not be popular, but the raven is certainly an imposing and impressive leader of the tribe, writes Charlie Elder
If you were to create a rogues’ gallery of birds, chances are that the top few spots would feature a member of the crow family or two. In fact, I’d hazard a guess that the magpie might top the list of the UK’s least favourite bird, were such a survey ever carried out, beating the likes of the herring gull, street pigeon, sparrowhawk and Canada goose.
The carrion crow might also feature prominently in the pecking order, its grating call and wily character winning few admirers among those who like their feathered friends small, cute and colourful. And, for sheep farmers in particular, the raven could also rank highly in the unpopularity stakes.
Doing what comes naturally does not endear our various species of crow – that is, our corvids – to all. Black-cloaked and almost foul-mouthed, these avian villains can appear a shifty bunch – hardhearted and cunning opportunists with an appetite for everything from nestlings to roadkill. The collective nouns tell a story: a murder of crows, a conspiracy of ravens…
Yet, they are smart birds, in both senses of the word.
Studies of corvid intelligence has found they are able to solve puzzles, count, recognise people and use tools. Our darkest birds are also some of our brightest.
And in terms of appearance, their glossy black plumage has a sophistication all of its own.
If you were exploring a jungle and came across a magpie with its black and white, ying and yang, patterning and glossy tail that in good light has a bluish iridescent sheen, you might consider it quite a beauty. Close relative the jay is also a handsome species, sporting a patch of kingfisher-blue in its wings and peachy plumage. The photogenic chough – back and breeding once again in Cornwall – has a characterful curved red beak that makes it a popular sighting among birdwatchers, while the smaller jackdaw, with its pewter grey head and blue eyes, possesses a charm all of its own (so long as nesting pairs aren’t cramming your chimney full of twigs!).
Which leaves the rook, carrion crow and raven – the lookalikes of the family.
The carrion crow – or just plain ‘crow’ – is a widespread and familiar large, black bird. In simple terms it lacks any standout features which help distinguish it from the rook and raven – and that is an identification aid in itself.
It is coal-black all over, males and females being virtually identical, though males tend to be slightly larger. The crow’s wings are slightly fingered, the tail unfanned looks square-ended in flight, and it makes a harsh cawing sound, typically repeated three or more times: ‘craaar! craaar! craaar!’ In fact its name is derived from its call, having been known in Old English by the word ‘crawe’.
The similar-sized rook is far more gregarious, nesting communally at the tops of tall trees and has glossy, slightly peaked head feathering and a pointed beak with a grey bare patch at the base. This greyness of the beak is sure-fire way of separating rooks and crows.
Rooks return to their so-called rookeries early in the year, with some even getting to work on patching up or building nests as early as this month. According to the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) the first eggs are usually laid at the end of February.
Lastly, the raven is the heftiest of the bunch, with a chunky beak and a diagnostic tail shape in flight: not square-ended, but rather pointed and triangular in the middle when fanned.
Numbering a few thousand pairs in the UK, these impressive birds were once widespread, but persecution drove them from much of the lowlands by the end of the 19th century. They have since made a comeback, spreading from westerly strongholds, mountains, sea cliffs and moors to colonise much of England. And they are, of course, famous residents of the Tower of London.
Of all the members of the crow family, the large and long-lived raven is my personal favourite. They are thunking great birds, bigger than buzzards, and whenever I hear their ‘kronk, kronk’ call I always stop to admire them, cruising over on powerful wings and bossing it wherever they roam.
They have a spirit of wilderness about them, being birds you find in bleak and remote places. They forge pair bonds that last a lifetime, and can also be show-offs – flipping upside down in flight, presumably to impress their mates.
Generally you see them in pairs, but I once came across a flock of more than 30 ravens feasting on a sheep carcass on Dartmoor. That much wingspan and noise, black silhouettes twisting above, rough-throated individuals bickering below, made for an unforgettable sight.
While sheep farmers certainly have cause for disliking ravens, given they do attack lambs, the rest of us may too readily harbour prejudices about these imposing birds. I have seen videos online of ravens kept as pets and they certainly seem fascinating and friendly companions. Not only are they canny and characterful, but some in captivity even learn to mimic words and are masters at solving puzzles in exchange for rewards. They are among the birds which one could argue are most like us – intelligent, loyal, resourceful, with a devious streak – and their survival strategies alone deserve admiration.
You generally see ravens from afar – down the decades they have wisely learned to keep plenty of distance between themselves and people. However, I was surprised recently to come across an urban raven in a tree beside busy Derriford Hospital in Plymouth.
So keep your eyes peeled and enjoy the identification brainteasers our corvids present. With practice one should be able to tell lightweight jackdaws from grey-beaked rooks from all-black crows from mighty ravens…