Watch the crows...

Spring birding in southeastern Wisconsin is truly wonderful! Leaves are a few more weeks ahead of completely blocking your line of sight, and the cooler temperatures keep hungry mosquitoes from hatching. On windless days not a twig is moving and so the only thing that does are what you are searching for. Animals of all sizes and varieties are shaking off the grip of a long winter piled with deep snow. Bird watchers all over the country are venturing out each morning and afternoon; walking their tried and trusted pathways in search of early visitors. Careful notes are jotted and shared with the like-minded. FOY (First of Year) sightings delight the hearts and minds of the faithful, while being dutifully compared to previous annual observations. Dates and temperatures are frequently noted along with time, place and total counts. Seemingly meaningless data in the grand scheme of things, however to the avowed birder – the clock by which they set their watch.  

In the uplifting words of poet Emily Dickinson; these are the days when “hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.” What word more appropriately embodies the promise of better things to come after the many long, cold, and gray days, than “hope”? Bird watchers and nature enthusiasts as well venture out again and again with bucketfuls of hope listening intently for all manner of tunes without words. Songs that just last fall were on the tips of our brains sound as brand new when first again heard each year. The subtle differences between the of a straggling Dark-eyed junco and a newly arrived Yellow-rumped warbler need time to soak in after months of dormancy. Yes, springtime…ahh…wonderful springtime!

Dr. Paul Hunter, Associate Medical Director, City of Milwaukee Health Department and avid birding enthusiast recently gave a well-attended talk within a community center at Lake Park. The subject which drew a room full of eager listeners was not about the impending convergence of migrating warblers; but instead was dedicated to a more commonplace and ordinary bird species – the American crow. Paul’s seminar (complete with PowerPoint slides) discussed the nuances of crow vocalizations and their brush with endangered status due to the 2004 West Nile Virus – a mosquito born danger, especially to these birds, and their come-back over the past seven years. One salient point that my friend Barbara and I picked up was something that neither of us had known; that crows and Great-horned owls despise each other. I am certain that some of the more seasoned watchers attending the talk knew this factoid and had used it to their advantage – however it was not in my personal arsenal of great outdoor tricks of the trade.

Apparently Great-horned owls love to kill and eat crows, and conversely (who knew?) crows do not love to be killed and/or eaten. Paul regaled the group with a few crow VS owl anecdotes and followed up with the coup de grace; “if you want to find a Great-horned owl – watch the crows.” Good advise I thought and tucked that nugget into my brain for another day. Who could have figured that “another day” would be about 2 weeks later while birding at Havenwoods (a Wisconsin State Forest that resides uniquely and entirely within the Milwaukee city-limits). Barbara and I were just about to head down the hillside towards the small drainage creek that runs north/south through the western 1/3 of the forest when a raucous noise was heard to the east. “Crows!” I announced and added, “Remember what Paul told us about those sounds and Great-horned owls?” Before you know it, we had turned around covering the 500 or so feet of distance and had stationed ourselves just into binocular range to watch. Around 75 feet ahead and up in the trees were about two-dozen large black birds making about as much noise as possible, while flying nervously back and forth between trees. About that same time, I noticed a large red-brown coyote scurry into the woods just to my right, and called out to Barbara regarding my sighting – Barbara just LOVES coyotes while birding…NOT!

We watched for about ten minutes (with one eye warily on the spot where the coyote had disappeared) and could not detect what the crow disturbance was all about. Little by little the small murder moved southward and all noise soon subsided into the distance. Barbara and I walked slowly in that same general direction but not with any real idea of interception – we just kept on birding as we moved along. We soon found ourselves walking along a grassy path through a more mature stand of deciduous trees. The crows had definitely pushed onward and southward as I could follow the sounds as they faded and faded when off to my left, a very large silent shape caught my eye as it moved from the ground and into the canopy of leaf-less branches. “There!” I cried to Barbara and pointed to my left as I watched the shape moving south and up into some large trees in the distance. Neither of us could actually see where the shape had alighted, but we were certain that it was up in the distance somewhere.

The woods on both sides of the path were eerily quiet as we slowly crept towards the area of the trees we thought might secret our feathered quarry. We had gone about 100 feet when a large shape was evident to my eyes up in a large tree. I excitedly whisper-croaked, “There!” as we stopped to train our binoculars onto what turned out to be the object of the crow’s angst, a Great-horned owl! Long binocular-ed looks and multiple images were captured as the both of us stood there in awe of such a magnificent creature in the middle of unlikely Milwaukee woodlands. Son of a Gun! (I thought) – Paul was right…I’ll be darned!

Keep your eyes (and ears) on the crows indeed.