Hanging Out at the Local Crow Bar
The secret lives of some of the smartest birds around
They were relentless, brilliant scavengers with a keen sense of craftiness, and no human being could outwit them. The kind of cunning mischief and competition that a murder of crows possessed was unbeatable.
― Rebecca McNutt
My roommate has developed a close personal relationship with the neighborhood crows. First, she started putting out water for them. Then food. And now they’re starting to communicate with her.
It’s cool. Or creepy, depending on how you feel about crows.
“I went outside to walk the dog,” she told me today. “And a crow buzzed just over the top of my head. They were telling me they’re hungry.”
I might have thought she was imagining things if I hadn’t seen their fixation with her myself. They clearly know my roommate, and can tell the difference between her and the others in the house. I’ve seen them respond to her, making eye contact or cawing. And when she’s not around, I swear they are looking for her.
The crows pay no attention to me, but when she leaves the house they’re like, “Hey lady! Where’s our damn food?” Once I left for work and a group of crows were staring at the house like they were casing the place. They had no interest in me. I texted her…
