Originally I was going to start my blog chronologically, beginning with the record-breaking rainfall shortly after we moved that led to the lake overflowing its banks and some form of property damage for almost everyone I talked to up here. Quite a welcome to mountain living, though I was told it was not the norm. I would then move on to my first winter in thirty-five years which was lovely...for awhile. But I'll get to all of that in time. No, I just have to begin with the family of ravens that entertained us morning, noon, and night for several weeks this spring.
Of course they caught our attention because they are large (almost half the length and twice the weight of a crow) and very noisy, but what kept me hurrying out to the deck each day to watch them was their audacity and humor. This bold little family of five had taken over the roof and both decks of the house across the street. This particular house was probably chosen for its proximity to a small grove of tall trees, but also because it was not occupied Monday through Friday.
Now during the week they would not only perch on the railing of the deck, they would strut back and forth on the deck itself--and strut is exactly what they were doing. (Oh I wish I had taken a few pictures!) You see, each weekend the owner would arrive and immediately hose off the ton of white-speckled bird poop all over his deck and then he'd place a large wooden owl on the railing. He also kept his big blue umbrella open as well, and for the most part the ravens stayed away...at a distance...watching. Yes, they would sit on neighboring rooftops and watch him, while I watched them.
Now here's the part I loved, once the umbrella came down and his car pulled out of the driveway and headed down the mountain for the week, well those stinkers would cruise on back and yes, knock that owl off of his perch! By Monday afternoon that owl would be lying on his side while his predators proudly marched around him on the deck.
Only once did I come close to talking to my neighbor as he hosed on the weekend, but I knew I'd only start laughing and I didn't think this was a good way to start a relationship--so I didn't say a word. Just sat on my deck and watched the weekly entertainment.
Now at first I didn't realize that this was a family of ravens because the three youngsters were almost as big as their parents, but as I began watching them regularly, I saw that the two adults would take off in search of food while the big babes would sit and wait and croak their heads off. "Now, now, now! I want food right now! What the hell is taking you so long?" is how I would translate the sound of their croaks and screams. The mother or father would return hastily and "place" whatever they had in their beaks into their demanding open mouths. Then they'd repeat this again and again and again; I was exhausted watching.
One morning I saw a mass of black on top of the chimney. I got my binoculars and what I saw brought tears to my eyes. They were snuggling! The smaller raven had its head resting on the chest of the larger one. I ran for my camera, zoomed as close as it would go, and this is what I got:
So precious!
I've been fascinated by ravens ever since I heard a loud knocking sound in Los Angeles and looked up expecting to see a very large woodpecker. Instead I saw a huge black bird resembling a crow. When I got home, I immediately looked up crows and ravens to see what the difference was, and I discovered that ravens where larger and made several different sounds beyond the "caw" of crows, one being a knocking, clucking sound. I went on to learn that they are very intelligent birds who will follow wolves to their prey and then feast on the kill. Check out Bernd Heinrich's Mind of the Raven, which I read ravenously (sorry, I couldn't resist), a fascinating study of ravens. He's also written a few other great books, such as, The Trees in My Forest, Ravens in Winter, and Winter World: the ingenuity of animal survival.
Now my raven family gave me one more magnificent moment. I had read that they often fly just for the pure joy of flying and that they have elaborate courtship flights with great displays of acrobatics and pair flying, male above female, wing-tip to wing-tip and heads touching. Well one evening, sitting on my deck with a glass of wine, this is exactly what I saw--and I only had one glass so it wasn't imagined! They swooped, soared, swirled, glided and dove, often side by side. It was just like watching a choreographed dance or the Blue Angels air show. What was most thrilling, however, was that it was clear they were enjoying it! There was no purpose or destination, just the pure play and exhilaration of flying together.
Now, in the midst of summer, the little family no longer hangs out together across the street. I see two on occasion on the rooftops calling out to each other and scavenging for food. But just this week I was awakened about 5:30 AM by a very loud, screechy cry right in my bedroom. I was startled awake thinking it was my little dog Chloe. But when I sat up and looked at her, I discovered that she was just as concerned as I was. That's when I realized the sound was coming from my fireplace. "Arhh! Arhh!" A very loud piercing cry resonated down the chimney through the fireplace and into my room. With glee, I realized that there was a raven on my chimney! I dashed up to see two of them flying around and raiding my suet-filled bird feeder. I promised them I'd keep it full.
Now that I am familiar with the delights that spring brings, if my ravens return to the same spot to nest and raise their babies, I'll be ready with my camera to catch the raven's strut and the owl's demise. Meanwhile the owl is resting up beside the hose, no longer needed at present, but getting ready for his mission next spring.
