I had many, many years ago read Konrad Lorenz's King Solomon's Ring in which this Austrian-born Noble Prize winner wrote about his observations as an animal ethicist (ornithologist, animal behaviourist, etc.) and one of his tales was of his pet raven that used to accompany him on woodland walks. Mr. Lorenz would reward his pet bird with pieces of raw meat, since this is a species that is omnivorous. Once, while out walking, he had the urge to micturate, and as he was relieving himself, the bird swooped down to grasp the man's member, feeling it to be a raw-meat offering; another experience in bird logic for this scientist.

We, living on an urban street with its close-by wooded ravine, have taken note of some of the activities of various birds whose environment we intrude upon. Perhaps, on the other hand, it's more of a two-way street, all of nature's creatures intersect and interact in some ways, and crows are known to have made their comfortable presence in all environments, including cities.

Many years back we became accustomed to the presence of what were called 'jungle crows' in Tokyo, larger-than-normal crows that tended to congregate around the water tower located within the small compound where we lived with other non-Japanese in a kind of luxury that ordinary Japanese could only dream of, our house resembling that of any found in Western societies with some typical Japanese touches. Feral cats abounded, finding shelter in the sewer system, evading any attempts by people to tame them. And they were, when not quick enough, meaty targets for jungle crows' appetites.

We've found the crows present in our ravine far more sensitively polite to the small furred creatures in our close woodland, standing back while squirrels take first rush at the peanuts we leave in various caches, availing themselves of what may remain.

When they're about, crows tend to sit atop the light standards on the street. When we daily exit our house to make for the ravine, the crows take notice. If there's only one, while he's busy following our entrance to the ravine, he sends verbal messages to other crows and they too begin to assemble and follow our progress through the ravine, taking advantage of the opportunity to treat themselves during this bitterly cold winter.

They know where we live, or at least some of them do, and they're alert to those times when we place peanuts at the side steps of the house and on the porch. They have become skilled at sharing with the cardinals and the squirrels which regularly come around to collect their due.