Crow on the lookout from the garden. 

Our house, as you may have gathered, is within the precincts of the Reserve, so we always consider that a bird seen in the garden is automatically a bird for the reserve – and we view it accordingly. We also feed the birds in the garden intensively, as indeed does Norman at the farm (North Plain) - only a couple of hundred yards away . . . so, in the immediate area, we have a good number and variety of species – which is excellent.

However there is a downside to all this: we seem to be 'raptor central'. I can't tell you how many birds of prey we get on a regular basis. Some of them you could nearly set your watch by (No! Really!) - and regularly little piles of feathers are to be found here and there, which we endlessly speculate about. We also have foxes and feral cats putting their sixpenn'orth in. OK! while we are at it, we have badgers coming in from the Reserve, which fortunately don't take birds but do rotavate the lawn and orchard in search of worms – their main source of food. We have long since stopped worrying about the fact and just go with the flow now. Ray Mears, on TV the other night, came up with the sentiment by 'Grey Owl', that famous naturalist and conservationist – that we do not own nature, we are part of it!

That being said, I have been known to go out and shout at the Sparrowhawk or the two Buzzards, when I see them sitting in the garden trees. The Buzzards decimate the rabbit population that spend time in the garden. The horticulturists amongst you may say, “Well, that's OK!”  But when a dear little rabbit, no bigger than your hand, turns up to nibble the lawn grass – which is pretty well all they do – one forms quite a deep attachment to these little furry folk.

The redeeming feature of all this are the two resident Carrion Crows, who nest and reside in the trees at the end of the garden and who, over the years have raised many successful broods. Last year was particularly good, in their having brought off 4 fledglings who are still hanging around the family nest and act as a sort of support group to the old male Crow in his policing activities, which he enthusiastically pursues throughout the course of the year - not only in the garden but on the adjacent saltmarsh and estuary. Nothing – and I say this from long experience – escapes his attention. He is the ultimate 'Warlord'. Should, for instance, a party of Rooks, often accompanied by Jackdaws (of which there are a good number on the Reserve), arrive on the saltmarsh in front of us, to eat and disport themselves amongst the rich detritus the estuary tides have to offer – he will descend amongst them with his retinue of 'crowlets' and make his corvid cousin's lives intolerable: chasing and jostling; so that they eventually leave in disorder. Whereupon the gang returns to the garden, cawing and strutting – displaying their satisfaction and ownership of the area. This action they metre out, without fear or favour, to any predator or raptor that misguidedly wanders into their marshland kingdom..

We have seen them remove Harriers - both Marsh and Hen; Buzzards; Sparrowhawk and Peregrine. They even harass Kestrels and local Owls of all species – and it's a brave fox that enters into their domain, although they do try it out sometimes on the saltmarsh, but tend to get a good drubbing for their pains and run off to more peaceful areas, further away. Sparrowhawks, though I have to say, are quite brave folk, as they also see the area as their territory too – but, in the end, are driven away.

About a week ago, we observed a real classic, out on the estuary 'sands', a couple of hundred yards beyond the saltmarsh. A Peregrine had just made a kill of a duck( a Pintail, we think) and was consuming the same when our doughty crow pair went out to do their thing. The male Crow stood in front of the Peregrine, a couple of feet away, crowing right into the Peregrine's face and generally making himself disagreeable. This gained the raptor's attention whilst the female cunningly hopped up behind him, eager to gain a tasty morsel or two. At which, the Peregrine spun round, and with a couple of gestures, discouraged the female from her thieving activity. I was watching this through the scope with great interest to see how this would all play out. The Peregrine tolerated this situation for a while but was clearly beginning to suffer from indigestion and made a determined lunge at the male Crow. Now, to use a well known metaphor, this was the 'yellow card' - which predictably the crow did not accept. Bad Plan! This was now becoming serious and and I began to fear for 'our' Crow's safety. But the fearless corvid could not back down, as this would have meant losing all his 'street cred' on the marsh – especially in front of his lady love! Push had come to shove!. Now a Peregrine is a serious animal when it comes to 'shove' and has all the advantages. But I was seriously surprised when it leapt into the air and started flying in ever increasing circles – gaining height and speed. Now I, as a humble human, recognised this as the 'red card', as this is the Peregrine's method of attack. The two Crows also recognised the implications and made a dash for the safety of the garden trees which they gained in some disarray. The Peregrine in close pursuit – buzzed the house a couple of times too, giving us an excellent view of this magnificent bird. The old male Crow, being a warrior of many summers, wisely chose to cut his losses and live to fight another day.

Amusingly, this opportunity arose two or three days later, when he decided to enter into a game of chicken with one of our visiting Little Egret – again right in front of the house on the saltmarsh. The game consisted of the Crow repeatedly standing right in the path of the approaching Little Egret who was peaceably and vigorously feeding amongst the creeks and dubs of the marsh. The game developed with a certain amount of wing fluttering and manoeuvring - the choreography becoming increasingly sophisticated. But the Egret, obviously growing tired of this to the point of exasperation, eventually trampled the Crow who was determined to still hold its ground. Although surprised at this turn of events, the Crow seemed to decide that honour had been sufficiently satisfied on his part and not wishing to receive a second trampling, returned to the garden to preen his ruffled feathers whilst digesting the experience of being flattened by a Little Egret. We suspect that there will be further sequels to this game – with the score being 1-0 to the Egret.

I, as a mere human, can offer the Crow no advice but I do hope that he will watch the Egret's long sharp beak in future or he will, as is his wont, learn the hard way! But in our eyes – his 'street cred' has risen substantially this last couple of weeks and he will be rewarded with an extra ration of fruit cake – his favourite.

Valiant crow seeing off Buzzard.

Peregrine episode - 10 2 13

Peregrine with duck on the mudflats - Scargavel Point

Oh, Oh!  What's this?

This requires a closer inspection.

This could be a tasty morsel!

Perhaps a distraction tactic would work better!

Little Egret encounter - 26 2 13

 Little Egret hunting along the dubs on the saltmarsh.

Crow arrives to inspect this activity.

Unperturbed the Egret marches off along the saltmarsh.

 . . . only to be confronted by the Crow who had flown ahead of him.

As the Egret took no notice of this warning the Crow landed right across the Egret's track.

 Stalemate!

 

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