It is a readily observable fact that crows do not enjoy a very wholesome reputation among the bird-watching public. The public at large, in fact, holds a dim and rather bigoted view of crows. They're large, they're a public nuisance, goes the claim, and there is nothing attractive about them. Farmers and anyone else who grew a kitchen garden, would be concerned about the welfare of their crops, pirated by crows.

Crows have never decided they would sign a covenant with humans not to raid food that humans grow specifically for their own advantage. Crows hold the view that they are as much of the world community as those strange creatures who tend to attempt to rival Mother Nature. They don't mind the threats and the epithets hurled at them as thieves. They feel they have as much a right to the bounty of the land as any other species. Their survival imperative is just as strong as any other living organisms'.

We've always liked crows. We've seen those events where in the fall crows throng together, named by, one imagines, ornithologists, a "murder of crows". Their presence in such numbers really is impressive. As is the chorus of caws they emit. They do sound murderous in intent when they circle an owl, for example, taking exception to that predator's intentions. As they do when there is a hawk that comes clumsily into their midst. They no more appreciate threats to their well-being than does any other species.

On a daily ramble; Riley foreground, two crows, background.

They are also exceedingly vigilant and clever. We see that ourselves in the manner in which area crows have habituated themselves to our presence in their midst, taking especial note of our activities when we stroll our nearby urban forest. One crow seems always to be on lookout duty, to warn others when we're about to embark on a daily circuit. They have a particular affection for us, recognize us and what we're about, and have been very adept in spotting the numerous cache places where we leave peanuts for the squirrels in the ravine close by our house.

They, like some of the squirrels who recognize us, will accost us in the hopes of being noticed and rewarded. There are, we have seen, crows who will do just as the squirrels do; await our tossing a specially retained three-chamber peanut their way, and then pursue it as it tumbles along the trail. They fly ahead of us and patiently roost on a tree branch just above a regular-circuit deposit area.

They never choose to oppose squirrels over the bounty; should a squirrel appear to take possession, the crows will simply fly off and await their next opportunity.