June 7, 1998

Ravenous in California

The chipmunks were busy. Along the highway down from Lassen Volcanic
National Park, several scampered off the highway as we descended the steep,
winding, mountain road. But when they reached the edge of the road, they faced
an insurmountable, vertical wall of ice and snow 10 to 30 feet deep. The snow
plows had been very busy this spring. Anyway, the chipmunks were sort of trapped
in this ditch of ice resulting from the 34 feet of snow received there this winter.
"What a wonderful opportunity for a hungry predator," I thought. Then a large
raven flew up from the highway in front of us and landed on a low branch of a
large conifer beside the road. Yes, it had a chipmunk in its beak and it began to tear
at the skin as we watched. It showed no great remorse that the chipmunk was still
alive as it began to feed on the squirming little body held tightly by a large raven
foot. The word "ravenous" seemed to be the best term to describe the activity of
this omnivore. The origin of the word "ravenous" now became abundantly clear.

Raven
But do ravens get a "bum rap?" Don't many animals eat hungrily and rapaciously?
Why is it that the raven has become a symbol of gluttony and death? Apparently
during the Dark Ages in Europe, when our ancestors were dying like flies of the
various plagues, ravens were observed to eat unburied human cadavers. Thus
ravens became associated with death and have since often been used as a symbol
of death in our art and literature. But I find them very beautiful, interesting, and
intelligent birds.
Pat's response to this act of predation was interesting. "Poor little chipmunk," she
said. Pat and I are representatives of possibly the most ferocious predator in the
history of the earth - the human species. Yes, we not only kill for food -- we kill
for fun. We especially choose some of the most beautiful and magnificent animals
to kill. Not only do we kill, we eradicate! Entire species are gone to satisfy our
hunger for food, money and power. Our homes, museums, and larders serve as a
repository for the dried bodies and cut up flesh of our prey. Sure, some other
predators also kill for fun, but there are probably more of us than ravens and other
large predators. Aren't we supposed to be "thinking animals?" How is it that we
automatically side with the soft, cute, cuddly little prey species? Is it so difficult to
think of raven chicks in need of sustenance?
There was one particularly tame raven at the snack bar in Yosemite National Park.
As we drank our hot chocolate in the drizzly, cool afternoon, it perched on the
railing beside our table, waiting for a handout. If it ate all the cheeseburgers and
french fries that little children dropped when their parents were not looking, this
raven might find it necessary to fly about 30 miles to work off the excess calories.
Otherwise, it would become too fat to fly and little boys would find it an easy
target for their rocks. Yes, it seems instinctive for little boys to throw rocks at
ravens and other birds. It is probably some biological imperative and this behavior
may even be encoded in their genes. It seems to be necessary for parents to "tame"
little boys and civilize them so that they will not throw rocks at ravens in National
Parks.
Ravens are abundant in California. As we have traveled through Canada and the
USA, I often feel fortunate to see a single raven and hear its "quark, quark, quark"
vocalizations. But yesterday I saw a very large flock of maybe 30 ravens flying
over the Highway 101 freeway. They seemed to be engaged in some sort of mating
ritual. Pairs within the flock would fly high and dive together. Since I was
traveling at the requisite 70 mph speed of Highway 101 and there was no place to
park along the highway, I could not follow the behavior in any detail. Under these
conditions when I see some interesting wildlife while driving the freeways and
highways, Pat kindly watches the other cars and the cliffs along the highway while
I observe the wildlife. Any slight deviation in my driving behavior brings a quick
response. "Watch out!" calls my mate. So far this formula has worked for quickly
correcting any errant behavior.
In the Redwood National Park, there is a stretch of highway along the beach where
campers can camp for free in an area adjacent to the highway. Assorted motor
homes, trailers, hippie vans and poor folks hang out there. Apparently, they too
feed their excess cheeseburgers to the ravens, because there was a pair of ravens
that were quite tame and fairly easy to approach. I approached them carrying a bag
of rancid trail mix. Squatting by a sand dune, I threw out a peanut. Maybe
expecting that I was trying to lure it within rock-throwing range, the larger raven
sidled warily toward the nut in the sand. A couple of times it jumped and flew
back a few feet as if a rock were flying at its head. Finally, it lunged at the peanut,
snatched it from the sand, crunched it easily, with its heavy beak and swallowed all
the crunched morsels without losing a single piece. Then it took a couple of raisins
and some sunflower seeds that I left on a log. It was a grand experience to see
such a large raven so near.
Often as we travel, we question the identity of some large, black bird -- is it a crow
or raven? We found them rather difficult to distinguish at a distance. But now we
are more confident in separating crows from ravens. The raven is generally much
larger that the crow. When flying overhead, the wedge-shaped tail of the raven
separates it from the rounded tail of the crow. As it flies, the wing strokes are
slower on the raven. The throat pouch of the raven is also much larger and it
"quarks" while crows "caw."
Smaller birds really fear ravens almost as much as they fear sharp-shinned hawks.
Apparently ravens readily take and eat the chicks of birds if they find the nest. Red
wing blackbirds are especially protective of their nests and will chase ravens
unmercifully. I watched a raven steal an egg from the nest of a mallard hen, carry
it some distance away, crack the egg with a blow of its mighty beak, and eat the
chick inside. As I approached to observe the process more closely, the raven
would not leave until it gobbled the last morsel, then flew away quickly in case I
had a rock hidden in my hand. Ravens seem to know human predators very well.
Of course, crows will also eat baby animals. At Patrick's Point State Park near
Trinidad, CA, we watched a crow try to fly away with a young rabbit it had
captured. The rabbit was so large that the crow could not lift it into the air. As we
approached, the crow finally left the little rabbit, which struggled on wobbly legs
back to the protection of a blackberry bush. When we returned to the same spot a
few minutes later, an adult rabbit was confronting the crow -- apparently to protect
its baby. It seemed a little "out of character" for this rabbit to become aggressive
against the depredations of the crow. But there it was, eyeball to eyeball with this
black, rabbit killer. Throughout the animal world, mothers often become
aggressive in defense of their babies. This rabbit was no exception to the rule.
"Quote the raven, nevermore?" Nope! Not really! They say quark, quark, quark.

Winfield