The crows are back. They arrived on time as usual, just when the black walnuts started dropping from the tree growing in front of the yellow bungalow across the street.
First I hear them, croaking and clucking from atop a metal light post, wooden telephone pole or one of the purple plum trees out front. Then I see them feast and skirmish from the porch as I sip coffee and read the newspaper in the warm late autumn sun. The crew of crows come to our block only during these pivotal weeks when the sunlight shifts from the backyard to the front and shines more golden. The clever crows know when the walnuts are ready for eating.
Over and over, the crows pluck up a hard-sealed nut and fly onto a phone pole or a walnut branch and pitch it down to crack open on the asphalt below. Pluck, flap, crack. Pluck, flap, crack. Often they call out as if to say, watch this, it’s mine, watch this, it’s mine!
We live on a quiet dead end street so the crows find little danger pecking at the nuts on the pavement. The few cars that do come are mostly driven by neighbors or their friends, or maybe a cable guy or gardener or mom taking her children to the school nearby. It can get busy at times, so the stop signs help. If a car turns in while the flock is feeding, each bird simply jumps clear at the last second. The flock doesn’t mind at all, since they know that car tires make excellent nutcrackers.
Crows can, of course, be cheeky and disagreeable. But when they are full of walnut meat, or just at the prospect of it, they can also be friendly and fun, even thoughtful. I say that because several times I’ve found an uneaten whole or cleanly opened half walnut placed right on the path to our front door, almost like an offering.
A couple of years ago I bought a ten pound bag of walnuts from the farm with the handmade sign off Highway 12 in Kenwood. That is a lot of walnuts for someone who doesn’t bake or cook much—even during holidays. Yet fresh, plain, raw walnuts are yummy in cereal or with yogurt, or next to figs from our tree topped with fresh Laurel Chenel goat cheese. Still, that’s a lot of walnuts.
Since the crows had been so entertaining, I decided to share the wealth. One day I went out onto the porch to make sure they were out there and watching, which they always are whether you know it or not. I threw a handful of walnuts onto the street below the walnut tree. At first nothing.
Crows are curious but very street savvy. It’s not easy to trick a crow. Or a raven for that matter. But for crows at least, a treat is usually welcome. Even so, it wasn’t until I retreated into the house and spied out from a window that I saw the birds descend on the sudden crop of walnuts without much of a quarrel.
When the crows arrive, the resident squirrels aren’t so amused. They’ve been waiting for weeks for the walnuts to ripen. Just when the squirrels start to munch and gather, the crows just swoop in with their racket. In response, squeaking and harrumphing in disgust, the big gray tree dwellers rush up and down the walnut’s trunk and branches, bushy tails twitching in full display. Clearly a power pose for a squirrel.
The crows just glance and grin.
Telling crows and ravens apart isn’t always easy. The clearest field sign is, when flying, the raven has a pointed tail where crows’ tailfeathers are straight across. Usually ravens are larger and often in ones and twos. Crows tend to gather, as in a “murder of crows.”
For a fascinating lyrical take on ravens versus crows, read Barry Lopez’s essay “The Raven,” which was published in Desert Notes/River Notes. It opens as follows:
“I am going to have to start at the other end by telling you this: there are no crows in the desert. What appear to be crows are ravens. You must examine the crow, however, before you can understand the raven.”
He goes on to write: “To begin with, the crow does nothing alone. He cannot abide silence, and he is prone to stealing things, twigs and bits of straw, from the nests of neighbors. It is a game with him. He enjoys tricks.”
I like to read that essay this time of year and welcome and watch the crows as I sit in the sun on the porch, and cherish the cold nights and wide smoky moons that surprise us during these luscious days of fall.
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