The murder

The murder meets at the nearby park twice a day. I like to think it's because they enjoy being with me, but I know their motivation is really the handful of peanuts and the cat kibble I scatter across a small area for them to take away. They give me great joy, even if that means being side-eyed by the dog walkers and the likes. I think people find the whole situation a little odd perhaps. There I am, in the middle of the park, sometimes standing up, other times sat on the grass, very much surrounded by a cloud of big, black birds that caw loudly, often, and wide.

I love this murder, I really do, they are awesome!  20-30 birds that come together, spend time with me, look at me and recognise me - whether I am on the other side of Hatfield or on my street. When I am amongst them I feel like I am one of the crowd. Literally. I cannot recognise them all, but some individuals have different traits that set them apart from all the others: one has a feather missing from their right wing, another one has a beak that is almost as long as a rook or a raven. I know some as they are clearly 'local residents' - but most come from several parts of the city, get their peanuts, hang around for a while and then go back to their territories.

The new ones that pop over often have looks that reflect fear, sometimes even suspicion, and they also tend to stay up in the trees for a lot longer than the ones who have been seeing me for the last year. From the latter, I receive looks of warmth, confidence, playfulness, protection and above all, TRUST. Mind you, this is me anthropomorphising, but it gives me great joy to do so, and no one can deny that trust is the foundation of all relationships. More so for relationships between 'good humans' and their local wildlife. 

A 'good human' is a human that is an ally - not a danger. Someone who is trustworthy, respectful and resourceful too (why not!?). Someone who is always there, consistently whether it rains, snows or shines. A 'good human' is also, in fact, a bit of an 'urban naturalist' - a term brought to light by Lyanda Lynn Haupt in her book 'Crow Planet'. She defined an 'urban naturalist' as being someone who listens, observes and appreciates the urban wilderness, and in the book she used her relationship with the local crows to teach the reader how to be more in-tune with that side of our life. We do not connect enough with our natural world.

So here I am, enjoying the wildlife in my local city by connecting to one of the most intelligent birds ever. Over the last year, I have learned so much about crows in particular, but also about social relationships, loyalty, kindness, love and even sadness and loss. Coincidently or not, humans also share all of these in their very intricate and complex relationships with others. The way these birds interact resemble our own ways too. 

If people sat for just 30 minutes in the park, and quietly observed.... they would most likely see the order, the respect, the persistence... but also the unruly crows fighting and being kicked out. They would see them welcoming the malnourished gull to eat from their treats, or the red kite being escorted out of the park after divebombing one member of the family - as that is not well tolerated. They would also see some of the most daring acrobatics in flight (how can they be so fast!!) and the endearing playfulness of the younger ones after they got their share (I once had an apple dropped at my feet, missing my head by tiny inches). 

Crows' family structures and how they are organised, their sense of social justice, how they mate for life, how they raise their nestlings, and how they defend their own (and their allies) reflect a lot of our own behaviour, our social constructs and hierarchies as human beings - but not all of their behaviour is accepted under our human ethics and values, and I suppose this is probably why they are so persecuted - humans do not like to be reminded of their own shortcomings.

But over the last year, I have learned so much about myself through these birds, and it's been such a journey - still is! No wonder I feel so protective of them. I hope to be able to share some of these learnings with you all, but for now,  meet my murder, and some of the members of this amazing family.

Crows are partial to some peanuts

The murder often has a couple of designated crows watching over whilst they eat (March 2021)
 

'I'm watching you...!'

The murder usually circles the treats and then waits for the older, more experienced to eat first before they launch in (March 2021)

This one picked up the ginger cookie that fell out of my pocket without me realising and then flew away with the whole thing on his beak!
(February 2021)

The newbies often have a look of fear and/or suspicion in their eyes (March, 2021)

The ones that have known me for over a year trust me and that shows (March, 2021)

Part of the local murder, feasting on cat kibble 
 (March 2021)

Crows are known for their sense of social justice & hierarchical ranks (March 2021)