The Much-maligned Raven

The Notorious Raven ... a Bird for All Seasons

About a hundred yards up Manzanita Creek, the gang is beginning to gather in the early evening. The serious business of the day is over. There is an air of looseness, of unwinding, as individuals move from one small group to another, each raucous voice trying to be heard over the others.

These are the young and unattached. Their friends who have paired off in life, some raising youngsters, have gone another mated duo sets up housekeeping and starts a family of its own. And when that happens, the raven couple will likely move in close to humans. Curiously, ravens, usually despised and maligned by people, like humans as neighbors. Not that humans themselves are all that nice to be around, but our landfills, dumpsters, and trash bags make life more pleasant for ravens and encourage their multiplication.

their sober way, leaving this most sociable time of day to those still permitted by custom to enjoy it to the fullest.

The group, numbering perhaps in the hundreds by now, is a breed all its own Corvus corax to be precise the common American raven. Its earlyevening gathering in the pine trees up Manzanita Creek from my Prescott home is the avian equivalent of our own social curiosity: the singles bar.

Here magic happens. Two pairs of eyes meet through the noisy throng, romance strikes a pair of raven hearts, and soon In return, we disparage ravens: In Germany a cruel mother has been known as a rabenmutter. In the biblical account of the great flood, a raven sent in search of dry land found food and did not return. In Jewish folklore, ravens were the only animals on the ark to violate the edict against lovemaking. Edgar Allan Poe added to the raven's dark reputation in his famous poem.

Only in real-life observation does the personality of the largest of our "songbirds" come through with their most attractive traits: intelligence, bravery, generosity, and a romantic bent.

Prescott Audubonian Kathryn Herrick told of seeing a romantic pair of ravens swooping in giant, mirrored, vertical ellipses. On each descent, their wingtips brushed each other gently. This was not during courting season but in late summer when the mates had already raised their young.

Artist-naturalist Tony Angell wrote in Ravens, Crows, Magpies and Jays of a pair of whitenecked ravens "in a moment of passion" as they soared through Parker Canyon in southern Arizona. The male suddenly flipped over on its back, sailing beneath and slightly ahead of its mate 10 seconds before turning upright again. Showing off for the lady? No doubt.Learning and uttering Poe's "Nevermore" probably would be no trick for ravens, which communicate among themselves in "words" of up to five syllables. There is a recorded instance of a raven learning to pronounce its own name and using it to announce its presence. This would be the equivalent of Little Orphan Annie's dog saying "Sandy" instead of "arf."

In her book Crows, Jays, Ravens and Their Relatives, Sylvia Bruce Wilmore documented the ravens' mischievous playfulness, performing acrobatics for their own amusement; teasing dogs, cats, and each other.

A central Arizona ranch family told me about having a livein raven for about four years. Blackie flew free during the day, returning at night to a large protective cage. Blackie learned the children's names, could whistle, and even barked so convincingly that the ranch owner got up to let the dog in only to find the raven waiting instead.Protective of the children, Blackie would dive-bomb visiting youngsters, especially targeting those with light-colored hair. An eminent Arizona judge, fair of hair, was attacked by the bird while visiting the ranch. Blackie would circle lazily overhead when the son of the family went riding.

Ravens will call in their friends to share in a fortuitous food find. They are believed to have alerted Indian and Eskimo hunters to the presence of game so they could benefit from the kill. They are tough enough to compete with eagles and falcons for food and will "mob" to ward off predators. And they are smart enough to use rudimentary "tools": dropping stones on intruders approaching their nests. Even the raven's "black" color possibly contributing to its black image doesn't stand up on close scrutiny. Zoologist Bernd Heinrich of the University of Vermont waxes poetic over the bird.

"Its highly glossed plumage shows iridescent greens, blues, and purples, shining like a black dewdrop in the light," wrote Heinrich in his book Ravens in Winter.

Up Manzanita Creek, the hoarse croaking becomes almost deafening, as the young single ravens continue to gather. A neighbor, fed up with the noise, comes out to clang pans and lids in a noisy clatter challenging that of the ravens.

Perhaps one of the ravens, intelligent and observant, is making mental notes for a discourse on the strange ways of humankind.