I have always loved crows and have learned as much about them as I could. I enjoy watching them walk, soar, fly and settle. Fortunately for me there is a large winter roost in an adjacent town. That roost has about 13,000 crows in the winter, filling trees, having a great time chatting with one another. Just before dusk, groups of crows gather everywhere before flying on together to the major roost. Flying over the car as I drive, they seem to be as excited to get together with their roost mates as I am to go meet my friends.
Apparently the Hartford winter roost, a tiny bit of which is pictured above, attracts many crows from Canada and more northern New England. While it is somewhat warmer here, I am surprised that they don’t join other migratory birds heading even further south. Hartford must have a great Trip Advisor rating among crows, so this is as far as they need to travel.
I had a cranky relative who hated crows. For some reason he seemed to take their call personally and would fire his gun at them when they landed in tall firs near his house. Fortunately he was a terrible shot and never even grazed a crow. I always rooted for the crows if I happened to be visiting during his temper fit.
My only conundrum comes from my mutual love of crows and hawks. Hawks like to go after crows. Crows retaliate by grabbing a few friends and chasing the hawk. I always hope that all the birds escape this fight to fly another day.