Corvids [crows, jays, magpies] occupy virtually every terrestrial habitat on Earth, including Arctic tundra, arid deserts, urban streets, and tropical rainforest. Having likely dispersed around the world over millions of years from an Australasian core, it is odd that they never reached New Zealand or Patagonia or disappeared from them both.
It’s hard to imagine a place without any crows or jays but it is true of the southern end of South America, New Zealand and quite a few Caribbean and Pacific islands. I learned this seven years ago when I visited a place that has none of them: St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands.
In the absence of intelligent omnivorous corvids, other birds fill their niche. The all-purpose crow/jay/predator at St. John is the pearly-eyed thrasher (Margarops fuscatus) …
… an aggressive, opportunistic omnivore that feeds primarily on large insects, but also feeds on fruits and berries, and will occasionally eat lizards, frogs, small crabs and other bird’s eggs and nestlings.
Pittsburgh’s winter crow flock hasn’t been in Oakland and Shadyside for months but they’ve been making a splash on the North Side lately.
On 23 January Cindy Pomorski reported, “I have heard and seen them 2 mornings this week in the trees in the wooded area near the DL Clark building,” on the North Shore near Heinz Field.
That same day crows were photographed on the roof of Pittsburgh Post-Gazette headquarters across the Heinz Field parking lot from DL Clark.
I’ve often noticed that in winter there are more birds in the city than the countryside. Though we may not have “quality” birds we make up for it in quantity with large numbers of fruit-eating birds drawn to our ornamental trees.
In the past two weeks hundreds of American robins have been feasting in Oakland. Some of the fruits were inedible until the deep freeze softened them so the robins circled back to finish the Bradford pears last weekend. This week they started on pyracantha berries and the red fruits of this (hawthorn?) tree next to the Cathedral of Learning.
Was half the fruit wasted when birds and squirrels knocked it out of the trees?
Look closely and you can see that deer walked among the fallen fruit. They must have crossed Forbes or Fifth Avenue after dark to browse on the Cathedral of Learning lawn.
Nearby, the sweetgum balls were coated in snow on Monday, all melted by Wednesday.
American goldfinches arrived to pull seeds out of the balls. Some fell on the snow.
Driving home yesterday from northern Pennsylvania I reached the edge of Downtown near the PPG Arena parking lot(*) at 5:35pm. Night was falling but the overcast sky was still lit.
As I drove up the ramp to Bigelow Boulevard three huge flocks of crows burst off the Flag Plaza hilltop (at right below) and swirled overhead to the roof of The Pennsylvanian (left), back and forth.
When I reached this part of the ramp (below) I could hear poot landing my car. The dark sky was thick with crows.
It was a scene like this screenshot from Gerry Devinney’s mid-December video, probably 3,000 to 5,000 crows near the Petersen Events Center.
Year after year we’ve counted thousands of crows — up to 20,058! — during Pittsburgh’s Christmas Bird Count so we were stunned when the annual count on 1 January 2022 yielded zero (0!) at the South Oakland roost and only seven crows nearby at dusk. Roosting crows were a No Show at the CBC. Where were they? And why?
The best way to count Pittsburgh’s winter crow flock is to find a good vantage point and count them as they stream into the roost. Before Christmas they roosted in South Oakland, confirmed by my count of at least 5,200 crows near Magee Hospital on 8 December. However on Count Day a number of things went wrong.
Crow counters usually work as a team but my teammate Claire Staples was injured in mid-December and is still recuperating. I tried to recruit others but no one jumped at the chance because …
The weather was warm but extremely rainy and foggy. All the high vantage points were enshrouded in fog so I went to Dan Marino Field in South Oakland where the crows fly by. It poured! I was soaked by relentless rain for an hour while I counted five crows overhead and two cawing in the neighborhood. Yet 220 American robins pulled worms from the mud and sang in the rain. As I drove home I checked the roosting trees near Magee Hospital. No crows anywhere!
Apparently crows change their roosting habits in heavy rain.
Were they still flying to South Oakland? As a partial answer I counted from the roof of my building on 2 January for 20 minutes. In the distance 1,140 crows flew toward South Oakland. Less than I expected. Have they split the roost into several locations?
The crows are here somewhere. Have you seen them? Where?
UPDATE: Gerry Devinney filmed a huge flock of crows near the Petersen Events center on 18 December.
On Throw Back Thursday here’s a look back at the Good Old Days of 2012 when it was possible to count 20,000 crows.
Fish crows (Corvus ossifragus) are a relatively recent addition to the corvid species found in western Pennsylvania. Most people don’t realize they’re here because fish crows look nearly identical to American crows (Corvus brachyrhyncos).
If something doesn’t look right, crows are quick to point it out and warn each other.
Ten years ago Pittsburgh’s winter flock saw something very disturbing and circled above it in the half light before dawn. “Watch out! Watch out! It’s dead! Watch out!”
Three hours later a person discovered the disturbing scene. It prompted an investigation.
The crows saw it first. Here’s the story.
(photo from Wikimedia Commons; click on the caption to see the original)
Pittsburgh’s winter crow flock has been avoiding my North Oakland neighborhood for three weeks now and I miss them. When I see them in the late afternoon, if I see them at all, they are flying very high in a steady stream. Where are going? Does anyone know?
The only crows I see are too few or too high for me to appreciate their raucous calls and aerial antics so I enjoyed them this recent video from #LesleytheBirdNerd. Listen to a crow Meow!
Frustrated that I could not see them from home I searched by car late Monday afternoon. There were no crows staging in the Upper Hill, Polish Hill, the Strip District, or near Trees Hall though I found a few hundred at Oak Hill west of Carlow. As I drove back from the Strip District I found a steady stream of crows flying toward the Cathedral of Learning — from where? — carefully avoiding the airspace above North Oakland and west Shadyside.
I chased them down to Frick Fine Arts where thousands were pouring in from every direction. They swirled in the trees near the Mary Schenley Memorial Fountain and perched on the roof of Posvar Hall. In the top photo the fountain’s female statue appears to be holding up her arm to ward off the crows but in fact she is plucking a lyre and singing A Song to Nature for Pan, the reclining male figure, frozen in bronze since 1918.
Of course the crows would love to roost near the fountain. It has everything they’re looking for. Mature trees, night lights and the white noise of splashing water. But there are too many of them. Those who can’t find a spot fly over Central Oakland in the dark, scrambling for a place to sleep.
Meanwhile the week’s warmth brought out a last hurrah of insects including a Virginian tiger moth (Spilosoma virginica) or yellow woolly bear in Volant, PA …
… and a leaf-footed bug outside my window, probably a magnolia leaf-footed bug (Leptoglossus fulvicornis). Last year’s leaf-footed visitor was eight days earlier in November. I think I know why they show up.
Leaf-footed bugs overwinter in leaf litter and are undoubtedly rousted out of their haven when the leaf blowers show up. Shortly before this bug appeared on our window, the 4-man leaf-blower crew at Ascension Church was in the final noisy throes of blowing and vacuuming a huge pile of leaves. I imagine the bug took refuge on our window while he figured out a new safe place to sleep away the winter.