When it comes to distraction, there’s nothing like a little murder to get me moving. I mean a murder of crows, of course. There is no blood in this murder, only bacon and other assorted treats.

Last week, a couple who were delivering some items in my neighbourhood saw me feeding the crows. They stopped to ask me some questions (socially distanced, of course). I briefly recounted for them my history with this group. As we chatted, the crows perched in the trees not sure whether or not to fly down and get some more breakfast just yet.

After hearing my story, one of the couple said – “These must be the offspring of the original ones you fed at this point!”

I agreed. We chatted a little more and she told me about a relative of hers who also has a group of crows they feed and know. We talked a little about how intelligent they were. After saying goodbye, they drove off, the crows came down to feed, and I went back inside for another coffee.

And to look at the pictures I had taken of the crows this morning. Before the couple showed up, I had already fed them once and had been snapping away in the early morning.

These neighbourhood crows have been coming to our house for feedings for about a dozen years now. It took a year or so to build the trust. And for awhile, it was ‘I wonder if they will be by today?’ But now it’s ‘I wonder when they will be by today?’

They use to just come for food, but I think now they come to hang out sometimes. About the only time we don’t see them regularly is in spring when they are getting ready to make their next generation.

They are so smart it amazes me. They know the layout of our house. And they have figured out the schedule of our days. They know our car. When I drive into their territory, heading home, they follow. They come by when there is action at our place.

And when I’m much too engaged with work and there is not a lot of movement happening in the house, they fly by my office window, swooping low between our house and the neighbour’s.

I will see a shadow go across my window or a reflection on my screen, depending on the time of day and the amount of light. And when I respond and move to the kitchen, there they are – waiting in the trees.

I usually scatter the treats in the front yard, far enough apart that everybody gets a chance to get a little something. But the day belongs to the brave and I’m not sure of who is who and where they sit in their own hierarchy.

I like that they will work to distract me, get me up and moving, doing a little something more enjoyable than just working. Especially during lockdown when there can be far too much screen time and not enough real time.

I give them bacon and other treats. But they don’t bring me shiny things or trinkets. Instead, they bring me a little joy and the gifts of recognition, interaction, and a little natural distraction.

Here is a link to all the pictures of our little murder.

A few crow facts…

• A crow needs about 11 ounces of food to make it through each day.
• Crows can live for 14 to 17 years.
• The oldest wild crow lived to be 29 ½ years old!