Crows have been busy round here this summer, cawing in back gardens, flapping over roof tops where normally only woodpigeons, blackbirds and magpies venture. The result of their carryings-on, sits on a fence here, looking decidely unsure of itself, probably its first venture out on its own. Its sits posing for a photograph before flying off to occupy an old apple tree..
Shopping this morning in Sainsbury, on a couple of occasions I find myself steering my trolley cleanly but dangerously between another trolley and a shelf. It brings back the thrill of dodgem cars and, subsquently, the even greater thrill of negotiating traffic in jams and queues on my way into work, in London. I must have been the worst of competitive drivers, eager to save a minute here and a minute there, switching lanes, and nosing into momentarily clear spaces, utterly contemptable. In the supermarket, similar behaviour, is not so bad, a venial sin..
This morning I learn of a missing front gate removed by drunkards or thieves from the entrance of some elderly, disabled neighbours. This afternoon, while watering our garden, I come across the gate neatly placed in our side entrance. I carry it back to its owners not without a swagger of triumph. Another case solved by Inspector Plutarch!
Your young crow is in the last stages of his/her first moult, judging by the few baby feathers askew. Also, there is the slightest bit of yellow at the corners of its beak, another sign it is this year's nestling and not a yearling.
It looks so helpless and confused, but it won't be long before it is harrassing the neighborhood cats, or participating in mob-actions against hawks and owls.
Delightful photo, Joe.
Thank you, dear Crow. I hoped that you would be able to supply chapter and verse, and you have. I don't think the crows in these parts attack cats, but as I think I said a few posts ago, they don't think much of macaws.
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