Recently, as dusk lengthens in the lower Laurentians, I’ve spotted large numbers of crows flying over the house. This murder of crows, maybe as many as a hundred of them, comes in waves that blacken the sky, their incessant cawing urging each other on to return to their roosts before sunset.
The next morning, just before sunrise, a cacophony of crows rising up from somewhere in the woods behind the house, rudely rouses me from dreams. I think about getting out of bed to see what all the ruckus is about. Are they flying back over the house to some appointed spot? But following through would mean opening my eyes, putting my warm feet on the cold floor and going into the kitchen to look up at the large transom window over the back door.
My curiosity has not yet been moved to such extremes. But it has been sufficiently piqued to explore why we called it a murder of crows. Is it because of their annoying voices and how we’d like to still them?
No one has a definitive answer but the term goes as far back as the 15th century. Maybe it’s because crows feed on carrion and are seen picking at the dead after a battle in short, crows follow murder.
Crows and their larger cousins, ravens, are also called other words we associate with nastiness - scavenger, schemer, trickster, and omen of death.
I have to admit, seeing them fly over the house every night gives me a shiver. This reflex is not learned but drawn perhaps from some collective memory because I’ve always found crows and ravens really interesting.
Visiting the Tower of London a few years ago, I found the six ravens that are kept captive but well fed and cared for by the Yeoman Warders. There is a belief (no one is sure when it started) that should the ravens ever abandon the Tower, the kingdom will fall. Do these watch over Britain?
Crows watch us and have been doing it forever but, for the most part, we don’t return the compliment. Maybe we should. Here’s what I’ve learned about crows:
There are parallels between crows and humans in as much as they are omnivorous, problem-solvers and prefer living in cities. In fact, they’re found on every continent except Antarctica.
Like us and other great apes, they not only use tools but can fashion them. And they’re quite clever about it. They will use a tool to acquire a tool. That’s complicated thinking.
A young crow may stay with its family up to five years, mate for life and that’s saying something since they can live 20 years. They might have humans at a disadvantage there as currently I don’t know many marriages that have lasted that long.
They can pick a face out of a crowd. Research has shown that not only can they remember the face of someone who's done them wrong but can pass on that knowledge to their offspring.
That voice of theirs is grating but that’s not the voice they use to speak to each other. Amongst their ‘family’ members, they speak in a trill-cum-burr sort of way, totally disassociated with anything crow-like.
Finally, they are exceedingly social and seem to need affection and the closeness of other crows. Close is warm and fuzzy but last December in Ottawa, a murder of crows was some 20,000 strong. The sight of them peppering the sky like swirling oil on water forced people to take notice and watch their step.
Conclusion: Since crows have been observing us and follow us into the urban areas where we have paved over nature, perhaps we should rethink whether a crowd of people might be called a murder of people. The crows, after all, are just there to help us clean up the mess we leave behind.
For more, check out this wonderful Nature of Things episode: http://www.cbc.ca/documentaries/natureofthings/2009/murderofcrows/
And an interesting concept on developing a symbiotic relationship with crows: http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/joshua_klein_on_the_intelligence_of_crows.html
Wonderful
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