I swear the crow knew I would leave my office at exactly 4:50 p.m. and was waiting for me. As soon as I walked out the door, it swooped down from the roof and flew circles above my head, cawing menacingly.
For the third consecutive afternoon, a crow was following me as I strolled to my bus stop in the surprisingly verdant South Seattle Industrial Park. I crossed the four lanes of Airport Way to the northbound stop on the other side, but this time, the crow followed me across. After a couple more tight circles over my head, it crossed back over the street and alighted atop a street lamp.
I shielded my eyes from the sun and watched it watching me. Apparently, it didn’t like that, because it jumped off with a loud caw and flew right at me.
At this point I had to laugh. “You’ve got the wrong man!” I yelled, to no avail.
A few more circles and it went back to the lamp. After one last sortie from the crow, my bus came, and I was safe.
The next morning, I emerged from the bus steeled for the next ambush, but all was quiet on the tree-lined front that day and the following days. The crows of the industrial park returned to their usual quiet indifference to humans, but the damage was done: Nevermore would I look at my fine-feathered neighbors the same way.
Numbers to crow about
Until this episode, I had always had good relations with crows. I frequently observe them at my office and Wallingford apartment and when walking through Seattle’s neighborhoods and parks. I often walk or stand next to them when they’re feeding at the garbage can at my bus stop, and they rarely flinch.
One afternoon, I came across 30 or 40 crows surrounding a backyard where an injured crow was lying in the grass. I received a few loud caws and flybys, but they let me pass.
The crow and its mate who had been harassing me for three days at my office were most likely overprotective parents who had babies learning to fly nearby. During fledge season, usually from late May to late June, crows may become very aggressive toward anyone or anything they perceive to be a threat.
It’s a good thing crows are only aggressive for one month a year, because their numbers are growing. Crows are always the most-counted bird during the annual Seattle Audubon Christmas Bird Count. Of the 47,998 birds counted in 2012, 5,551 were crows.
As Seattle has grown over the last 50 years, so has the crow population. Crows prefer the open foraging areas that result from more people and less forest. Easy food sources like restaurant Dumpsters and household garbage cans keep them well-fed and breeding.
Apparently, they really like the wetlands on the on the University of Washington’s Bothell campus, too. In March, an estimated 10,000 crows arrived at dusk each night to roost. I strongly recommend avoiding all bus stops at UW Bothell during roosting and fledgling seasons.
Who’s a birdbrain?
Another factor in the rise of crows in Seattle is their intelligence. John Marzluff, a professor of wildlife science at the University of Washington, has published two books about crows. Marzluff has noted that crows can tell time by knowing what hour penguins are fed fish at the Woodland Park Zoo and arrive beforehand; can memorize the faces of people who feed or harass them; and like to have fun by pulling the tails of cats and dogs. They can also mourn by placing a twig or leaf on the body of a fallen family member or comrade.
Of course, you don’t need to be a published biologist to observe crows demonstrating their intelligence in Seattle: Sometimes you just need to look up. A friend of mine was running near Green Lake one morning when she stopped and watched a crow drop a horse chestnut in front of oncoming cars three separate times until a wheel finally ran over the nut and opened it.
Marzluff also told the story of a woman in Port Townsend, Wash., who regularly fed crows in her yard and was repaid with gifts, including a poker chip, a penny, a paper clip, a glass bead and a Cap’n Crunch figurine. Maybe I should start keeping breadcrumbs in my pockets in case I am ever harassed by crows again.
Even though I haven’t seen anyone feeding the crows down in the South Seattle Industrial Park, I have noticed the crows have been leaving plenty of gifts splattered on the roofs and windshields of my coworkers’ cars. I guess crows are smart enough to get the last caw.
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