Ravens are people too, but do not call them "Crow"

 

Ophiacus J. Raven

I had a conversation with a raven. He was very smart and I think he wanted me to feed him. It's a pretty safe bet, I think. But I am not that easy.

I much enjoyed my time with him and came away with a more thorough understanding of ravens. These birds are gregarious without reservation. Not one raven I have ever greeted failed to respond and this one was no different. There are other birds that are friendly, but none so much as the raven. So we talked for a while, him and me, the other day.  

I guessed that he was an extremely smart raven and would make a likely spokesbird for the group. I noted that his head seemed to be larger even, in general, than that of other ravens I have seen. I mean, I didn't measure it or anything as insulting as that. But he did have a very strong brow and a high forehead, as well as good beak structure and fine tail feathers. He was very sleek. 

Ravens are very proud. They are proud to be ravens and they are proud that they are not other ravens. Each raven considers himself to be the best of the breed, this is certain. Most of them are right. This is a thing they have in common with many humans, I think.

Most ravens are proud to live where they live and to eat the things they eat. Usually you see them around the places we humans feel are the best too -- like national parks, for instance. You cannot find a prouder, more discerning bird, notwithstanding those derelicts you see hanging around road-kill. But the reality is, there are humans who dumpster-dive as well, so we should not indict the entire species for the actions of a few. 

Ophiacus J. Raven opined that while some folks believe crows and ravens are closely related, ravens know this is a lie. Raven is to crow, Ophiacus said, like champion-purebred dog is to flea-bitten Heinz-57 mutt. There's just no comparison, no similarity. They are, he said, demonstrated sneak thieves and liars. Most crows, if not all of them, he said, are really just black-sheep jay-birds, with blood-lines of dubious origin. Ophiacus is suspicious of crows and believes that crows have a certain quantity of cowbird blood in them and, as he said, likely a bit of bluejay as well.  

Did you know that ravens can hop on both feet to one side or the other? They do this when the ground is hotter than they like it to be, or maybe in other cases, colder... They also do this hopping side-step when other ravens are covetous of their treasures, whatever those things might be. On one particular occasion, one raven had a rather fine strawberry and a different raven wanted it. Actually, I think several other ravens wanted the berry and so there was much hopping and quite a lot of feather ruffling as well - and large quantities of vocalization. Ravens also hop when they are startled and often resort to cussing. Loud, insistent cussing. This, too, often involves other ravens.   

One day, someone left a local raven community a nice puddle of ice water on the pavement, dumped from a soft drink cup. This was considered by them a fortuitous thing and they spent several minutes attending to it, turning their beaks sideways with their heads next to the ground and near to touching it, so they could more effectively enjoy the refreshment.

Once they had their fill in this manner, they began to flap it up onto themselves in an impromptu bath. As each one would finish his particular and individual devotions, there would be much hopping (and flapping) and another would take his place. They continued this ritual until there was so little water left that none of them could get any use of it at all, either to drink or to bathe. Several of them began to cuss; I deduced these were birds to which little water was bequeathed.

This cussing caused the others to look away as if disgusted and in some cases, disinterested even. That is not to say that cussing is not a habit uncommon to ravens; no, the breed is definitely prone to colorful language. But they do not encourage it amongst each other when in polite company. 


A Raven on the brink

Later, I saw a different raven perched in the top of a short tree on branches that could not support his weight. He was clinging to it in the face of a near-hurricane wind which was blowing up and out of the Grand Canyon, as such winds often do. The wind would blow the branch this way then that, but the bird hung on as if it was his destiny to cling right there on that very limber little branch as it swayed to and fro in the wind, there on the edge of a five-thousand foot cliff.

Ever so often, he'd look my way to make sure I was watching him. He wanted me to know that he knew what he was doing. He seemed extremely pleased with himself and he was not cussing at all. He was simply a bird who knew how to hold on. He was single-minded about it and you could not say that he was not determined. In fact, I believe his reputation is such that he is widely noted among ravens as being the most determined one of all.   

I do not know what it was about that particular position that enchanted him so -- no other raven seemed to want it, or any other bird. But perhaps it was the magnificent view; I myself stayed at that same spot for quite some time, just looking around.