The intelligence of crows is widely recognized. Some scientists link their smarts to their sociality—crows have to deal with relatives. Or, turned the other way, because crows (and other social animals) can cooperate they gain a survival advantage over solitary animals. For most bird species, families come and go with the seasons. Out from their eggs tumble homely lumps of imperious appetite. After frantic weeks of feeding, the youngsters fly away, family feeling fades, and it’s every bird for herself until next spring.
Crows are different. They team. Picture two crows trying to steal a fish from an otter. No luck—the otter is vigilant and possessive of its catch. A third crow lands behind the otter, pinches its tail, and flaps off to avoid the otter’s reflexive snap. The instant its back is turned, the first crows make off with the otter’s fish.
Probably that tail-biting crow was a parent or a sibling, but although crows frequently pull stunts like this, it’s not easy for researchers to follow who is helping whom, because crows are hard to tell apart. For research studies scientists attach identifying bands, when they can catch them, but crows are nearly impossible to trap.
Stories about pet crows reveal their mischievous natures. I have it on good authority that crows can identify the counselor within a tent of sleeping campers. From that counselor’s miscellaneous effects one crow found and removed the paycheck and evinced a naughty pleasure from the ensuing response—so goes one distinguished naturalist’s reminiscence of crows brought up at summer camp.
Although crows are clever and resourceful, there are limits to their perspicacity. When a food supply exceeds their immediate need they cache surplus items underground. As one crow’s human friend tilled a garden her bright-eyed pet seized worm after worm, stashed them in a convenient hole—and was manifestly puzzled that they didn’t stay put. I have a feeling that my own species has some equally comical blind spots—but it’s hard to see them from the inside. Ravens could tell us.
Crows have adapted well to suburban living. Their abundance is documented by the Concord Christmas Bird Count, in which volunteers fan out over a circle centered at the intersection of the town boundaries of Acton, Concord, Maynard, and Sudbury. The 7.5 mile radius reaches part or all of 18 towns. Over the past 46 years, the average tally of crows is well over a thousand.
The 47th annual count will be held on Saturday, December 30, 2006. There are two ways that you can participate. For those who would like to get outdoors on a brisk winter day, count coordinator Hank Norwood will place you with a field team. Or if you prefer to view winter from the warmth of your home and you live within the count circle, you can become a feederwatcher. The count needs you—if you’re able and willing to help, please contact Hank at (508) 358-7524 or send an e-mail to hankn583@aol.com.