Crow love

Last week a pair of crows were courtin' and sparkin' on the arbor in front of the house.  They were so absorbed in each other they didn't even notice when I took this picture through the living room window.

Corvus brachyrhynchos (American crows) have been studied to death by biologists, probably because they are so plentiful and are also intelligent, complex birds. People find them either interesting or else hate them. Hardly anyone "loves" crows.

Seattle is teeming with crows, and during daylight hours our house is under surveillance because I feed them occasionally, and they never forget a free, quality meal. If I throw something on the lawn, it's gone within a minute, even if there are no birds in sight.

But for all the hundreds hanging around the neighborhood, it's rare to see them physically touch each other like that, and even when prize food (like chunks of old stinky cheese) is on the ground they seldom fight. There's a pecking order and they take turns, which reduces conflict and saves energy.

This lovey-dovey behavior was unusual and I did some quick research on one of the many websites about the American crow.  I learned this:  Crow mating takes place on the ground after the male bird makes a display of fluffing his body feathers and bowing while making a rattling song. Then male and female perch together to touch bills tenderly and preen each other's feathers. So-- this was the afterglow.

But here's the interesting part. This behavior is not seen often because crows mate for life. Pairs already mated (think of them as old married folks) don't usually have elaborate courtship displays again. They just get down to family business year after year.

So I ruined the magic as soon as I stepped out on the porch. They broke apart like a pair of guilty teenagers and acted like they were up to nothing at all.