WAITING IN THE WINGS?This ten-day-old hooded crow, or ‘greyback’, will be ready to fledge its nest after another 12 to 16 days.
Opportunity makes a thief
Country Sights and Sounds
John Shelley
‘A wet and windy May fills the barns full of hay’. That’s what the old folks are saying. We got the first part right; now we must wait and see. James doesn’t believe it, but looks to the sky with a heavy sigh each time he goes to fetch more wood for the fire. ‘All we have left is hope,’ he says. ‘There’s nothing in the barn and still little enough in the field.’ Perhaps, by the time this gets to print, things will have changed for James and so many other of our neighbours.
A pair of hooded crows have fared rather better than James. These greybacks have their nest balanced on the outstretched bough of one of our better oaks, wedged into the place it forks into two. Their untidy construction of sticks looks to be in a precarious place. It withstood the gales though, and I know if I was to make the climb I would find it cemented there in a marvellous way. Some corvids do lose their nests to spring storms, though I think these are generally young and inexperienced birds breeding for the first time.
The hoodies have found rich pickings along the lake shore, where the nests of waterbirds have been placed out in the open with little green growth to conceal them from predators. Omnivores and great opportunists, the crows will take whatever is available. Everything from nuts and fruits to frogs and carrion will be on the menu, and the young crow family have done very well on what their parents have provided.
They found the mallard nest in the briars. That I know, for there under the pines were the remains of olive-coloured duck eggs. Each shell had been broken into from the outside, rather than broken through from within. And nearby were more plundered eggshells, speckled and streaked, stolen from the moorhen’s nest in the reeds, each bearing the same hallmark left by the crow’s sharp beak.
Both mallard and moorhen will have another opportunity to raise a family. Even now the crows are bringing their young ones off the nest. I was able to watch as one of the adult birds set about encouraging the fledglings out from the only home they had ever known. The old greyback had an offering of food and the young ones were clamouring for a share of it. Up to the nest she hopped, making little croaking noises in her throat as gently as a crow might ever make them. When the youngsters craned their necks forward to be fed she retreated along the branch. Her offspring protested mightily, like the spoilt children that they are, and flapped their wings in annoyance as they teetered on the edge of the nest.
There was no way they would climb out this day. I should like to be there when they did, for one or more would certainly fall to the floor and give me a chance to examine them. I never knew a fledgling crow to be hurt by its tumble to the ground, just bewildered and sometimes not a little cross at being manhandled. The adults can become quite distressed at the plight of their young ones so I try not to worry them unduly, for although they have dislikable habits, their dedication to parenting is admirable.
A mile away there are young birds at the same stage of development in the rookery. In fact some of these have already left home. In another two weeks the rookery will be silent by day as the flocks leave as if possessed of one mind. One day they fly to the east, another to the west. When they leave at first light there will be rain by lunchtime. If they fly to the furthest edge of their territory the weather will be fine. On the days they stay close to home we can expect a storm.
I grew up watching the rooks. When it comes to short-term weather forecasting they are seldom wrong. Nobody seems to take any notice of them now. But I shall be watching them tomorrow, and if they should fly far and to the east I shall fish in the evening, for it will surely be calm. As for the crows, they have their work done early and will watch James draw hay, enough to fill the barn to the very eaves.
