The Greasy Birds

That girl does not like ravens.  “Those greasy birds,” she calls them.  “They are too shiny,” she insists.  “They always look like they are up to something.”

I can understand why that girl feels the way she does about ravens.  One of the local ravens spends quite a bit of time lurking around my house.  That particular bird regularly sweeps around the sky directly above us.  That bird is always probing.

Ravens are the largest “perching” birds in North America.  They are not generally social with other ravens and tend spend time alone, or might hang out a bit with one other raven.  Centuries ago, however, they figured out that following humans around might lead to interesting food choices.  They are smart enough to recognize that we are wasteful in our food habits.

Ravens are both hunters and opportunists.  I once saw a raven flapping off through the air with a three-foot snake writhing in its clutches.  I have witnessed ravens chasing after chipmunks.  Should you toss out any butt-end of a thing, a raven will likely be the first critter to inspect it for food value.

If you observe ravens when they fly, you will note that they often soar and sail upon air currents the way birds of prey do.  I cannot count the occasions when a raven has sliced silently overtop me while I stood outside my house.

According to Softpedia, ravens might live 40 years in the wild and up to 70 years in captivity.  In many cultures, including Chinese and Greek, ravens are harbingers of storms.  In African and European legends, ravens forecast death.  The birds can also be playful and mischievous.  Softpedia noted that some ravens in Yellowknife, Canada, learned to push snow onto shoppers from the roofs of local supermarkets simply for entertainment.

That girl is correct: they are up to something.

       --Mitchell Hegman   (PHOTO: Wikipedia)