Something to crow about

Clever, companionable and mischievous, the crow or corvid family of birds has long loomed large in our lives and imaginations, as symbols of death and crop destroyers. But, contends Simon Lester, they’re not all black-hearted scoundrels

- Simon Lester

‘If men had wings and bore black feathers, few of them would be clever enough to be crows’ Henry Ward Beecher

THE rooks are busy rebuilding their nests, happily cawing away, as they flit to and fro, carrying twigs and other material. Jackdaws are chattering on chimney pots and hollow trees, as carrion crows and magpies are busily staking out their territories—it’s all go in the corvid world. By this time of year, the mighty raven will have already nested high in a solitary tree or cliff face and the buff-coloured jay, a master of the wood, will be moving stealthily through the trees, only letting out that raucous screech call in alarm.

Overall, the corvid family is doing well. Most are increasing substantially or are stable at high numbers, with the exception of the red-legged and billed chough, which is now restricted to the West and the Isle of Man.

Corvids are some of the most intelligent species of bird on the planet, thriving thanks to being generalist feeders that enjoy a wide-ranging diet from seeds and insects to meat, dead and alive. They’re monogamous and sociable. It’s because of these characteristics that this supremely successful family has always come into conflict with Man. Long before game shooting, gamekeepers or conservation, creatures that deprived us of precious food or affected our standard of living were on the hit list.