How I started a murder
Of Crows!
I can get a little crazy with animals. I decide I like something and then I go do it. And when I get like this, I do it right.
So, when I decided to become a crazy crow lady, I researched everything. What do they eat? How do you attract them? What's the mechanism for feeding them? Once I had it all together I built a smorgasbord of crow treats, a dunking bowl of water, a platform tray secured to my deck railing. Then I went through my costume jewelry for shiny things, crumpled up aluminum foil balls and dropped them in the water, and cawed my heart out to let them know the buffet was open.
I have a large blue crow tattooed on my arm. I've loved them for a long time. There's something about their mysterious nature, their intelligence. I was probably always going to end up here.
Which might be why I got crows on the second day. I was told it would likely be weeks.
A pair showed up and kept showing up. I watched them on the Blink camera, figured out their timing, then decided that wasn't enough and bought a solar-powered birding webcam. Then came the real problem: names.
A friend pointed out that crows are messengers in mythology. I love mythology, so my first pair became Hermes and Iris — both Greek messengers of the gods. Then a third showed up, arriving with the other two like they'd always been a trio.
Which meant two things: I had a murder of crows, and I needed another name. I went with Morrigan, the Celtic goddess of war who shapeshifts into a crow. Do I know if crow #3 is female? I do not. I don't care.
I'm starting to tell them apart. Hermes has a very prominent brow over his beak. Iris is smooth, a little smaller. Morrigan has the big brow too. Clearly takes after dad. Personality-wise: Morrigan grabs an entire chunk of suet or a half a hardboiled egg and vanishes. Iris is devoted to the fish-based dog food. Hermes is a little clumsy. He steps in the seed bowl and startles himself when it tips over. He also likes standing on top of the webcam and shaking it so my footage looks like an earthquake.
I am now waking up two hours early to set out their buffet, then going back to sleep. Because I want them to love me as one of them.
Last week I was standing on the deck with my coffee, cawing like a complete idiot at the oak tree across the yard. Hermes was up there somewhere. I couldn't see him.
He cawed back.
HE CAWED BACK!
I don't know what he said. But something passed between us, this ridiculous human and this wild crow who didn't have to show up but keeps doing it anyway. Every morning.
You might think that sounds crazy. You're probably right. But I'm betting at least a few of you are already wondering what crows eat.I can get a little crazy with animals. I decide I like something and then I go do it. And when I get like this, I do it right.
So, when I decided to become a crazy crow lady, I researched everything. What do they eat? How do you attract them? What's the mechanism for feeding them? Once I had it all together I built a smorgasbord of crow treats, a dunking bowl of water, a platform tray secured to my deck railing. Then I went through my costume jewelry for shiny things, crumpled up aluminum foil balls and dropped them in the water, and cawed my heart out to let them know the buffet was open.
I have a large blue crow tattooed on my arm. I've loved them for a long time. There's something about their mysterious nature, their intelligence. I was probably always going to end up here.
Which might be why I got crows on the second day. I was told it would likely be weeks.
A pair showed up and kept showing up. I watched them on the Blink camera, figured out their timing, then decided that wasn't enough and bought a solar-powered birding webcam. Then came the real problem: names.
A friend pointed out that crows are messengers in mythology. I love mythology, so my first pair became Hermes and Iris — both Greek messengers of the gods. Then a third showed up, arriving with the other two like they'd always been a trio.
Which meant two things: I had a murder of crows, and I needed another name. I went with Morrigan, the Celtic goddess of war who shapeshifts into a crow. Do I know if crow #3 is female? I do not. I don't care.
I'm starting to tell them apart. Hermes has a very prominent brow over his beak. Iris is smooth, a little smaller. Morrigan has the big brow too. Clearly takes after dad. Personality-wise: Morrigan grabs an entire chunk of suet or a half a hardboiled egg and vanishes. Iris is devoted to the fish-based dog food. Hermes is a little clumsy. He steps in the seed bowl and startles himself when it tips over. He also likes standing on top of the webcam and shaking it so my footage looks like an earthquake.
I am now waking up two hours early to set out their buffet, then going back to sleep. Because I want them to love me as one of them.
Last week I was standing on the deck with my coffee, cawing like a complete idiot at the oak tree across the yard. Hermes was up there somewhere. I couldn't see him.
He cawed back.
HE CAWED BACK!
I don't know what he said. But something passed between us, this ridiculous human and this wild crow who didn't have to show up but keeps doing it anyway. Every morning.
You might think that sounds crazy. You're probably right. But I'm betting at least a few of you are already wondering what crows eat.