CHASING DOWN THE MUSE: No grousing about crows for me

I have never understood why a flock of crows is called a “murder.” It is such a harsh term for an intelligent and entertaining creature.

Each morning I rise to the raucous sound of a flock — or a murder, if you will — of crows just outside the windows. Better than any alarm clock, once they begin the gurgles and gargles of the feeding ritual for the young, there is no sleep for me.

From dawn until dusk the boisterous cawing of crows can be heard through the canyon as backdrop to the sounds of human industry. Some people are bothered by the noise, I realize.

A friend was recently complaining about having hurt her shoulder. When asked how this happened, it was revealed she had been throwing rocks at the crows. I smiled. Part of me understood, I suppose, but still I love them — and their noise.

Bold, gregarious birds, crows — and their relatives, the ravens — will walk right up and take whatever you might be eating — and more. Just turn your back on them, and that sandwich is gone.

I remember a time in the Grand Canyon when one of the brazen black birds made off with my baggie of meds straight out of my unattended duffel bag. A family of these corvids on hormones, the idea gave me the giggles for days. They are far more opportunistic than discerning, apparently.

A murder of crows can be startling in its number. Many evenings as my husband, Mike, and I sit on the deck we will see more than 50 birds fly up canyon to roost for the night. I have heard stories of groups of crows numbering in the millions in Oklahoma and Nebraska in the last century. That must have been a truly impressive sight — and very loud.

There are many reports of the intelligence of crows, some of which are undoubtedly exaggerated. We humans often have a tendency to anthropomorphize things and impart intelligence to a creature that may not truly exist. Still, crows can be taught many things and accommodate well.

Years ago, Mike had a pet crow — Solly — whom he had raised after it had fallen from a nest in the neighborhood. Solly was just a part of the family for quite a while, following Mike’s mom around and supposedly “speaking” a few words. He was a dubious help as she hung clothes on the line, often making off with the clothespins for a time before returning them to her, and he would eat right out of one’s hand.

I am not completely convinced of their intelligence, but crows and other corvids certainly seem to have the ability to take advantage and exploit situations they encounter to their own benefit.

In spite of my delight in the crow and its canyon relatives, the jays, I have also noticed their propensity for taking over. It seems that, like we humans, they are not very good neighbors and often are a threat to the other birds of the area. Crows are rapidly joining the pigeons and gulls in urban populations — good scavengers all. Perhaps a little of zero population growth might be called for among the crow citizenry before they chase out all the finches and wrens.

And speaking of, whatever did happen to zero population growth among humans? While awaiting my chai tea the other morning, I overheard a snippet of conversation. The young man behind the counter said something to the effect that by the year 2060 we humans will have increased to such an amount that we will all be standing shoulder to shoulder. Surely an exaggeration, right? And what of the resources such as food, water and energy to support this increase in population? Short on corn and soybeans, as today’s news states? What of the future?

My mind is overwhelmed by the staggering possibilities. Guess we will all become scavengers like the crows, a la Mad Max. I think I shall just return to thinking about a murder of crows and an ostentation of peacocks and a pod of seals and a covey of quail. What would a multitude of humans be called, I wonder. Simply too many?

Caaw…caw…. Maybe I should just go back to sleep.

CHERRIL DOTY is an artist, writer, and creative coach exploring and enjoying the many mysteries of life in the moment. She can be reached by e-mail at Cherril@cherrildoty.com or by phone at (949) 251-3883.