Coyote And His Friends: Crow

Crow is Coyote’s friend. (Raven is Coyote’s colleague, but that is another story) Coyotes and crows have a symbiotic relationship in the animal realm, as is true of Coyote and Crow on a mythic level. This is hardly surprising, given their similarities of clever and cunning intelligence, adaptability to novel circumstance and love of humor and games.

The intelligence of crows is well documented. Farmers know that crows can distinguish between a man entering a field with a rifle or with a hoe, and respond appropriately. Crows sometimes leave gifts (usually small shiny things, which they collect) for people who put out food for them. Crows are known to hold wakes for their dead, gathering around the fallen, then singly coming forward to peer intently at the corpse.

Crows have a remarkable sense of humor. Many animals play, mostly when young, and that spontaneous play may be seen as preparation for adult life. Think of the rough and tumble of puppies or kittens as training to pounce on a prey animal or to fight for dominance and acquire a mate. Crow humor is not simple play, but a humor that comes from an intelligence capable of self-awareness, irony and sheer physical joy.

I once watched a group of circling, soaring crows take turns tucking one wing in close to the body, cartwheeling in free fall through the air, only to regain flight just before impact with the ground and rejoin the flight circle. I was reminded of the play of children who whirl and whirl until they fall down dizzy. Is this the same instinctual desire to seek an altered state of consciousness that motivates adults (and now we know, chimps and elephants also) to consume alcohol or other mind-altering drugs?

At the same site I witnessed a lone crow interact with a group of soaring vultures. I believe vultures soar in springtime groups as part of mate selection, but it may be for simple delight in the warm spring sunshine. This crow soared above them for a while, then cocked its wings in imitation of the particular dihedral of a soaring vulture and sailed into the group. It flew face to face with the vultures, one by one in turn, as if to shout “Look At Me, Look At Me, I’m A Vulture Too” As it resumed normal wing form and flew away, I could imagine the crow equivalent of gleeful laughter.

I was once hiking through a boulder filled gorge, on my way to a remote rock climbing site. I heard the raucous sound of crows and quietly advanced until I could look around a boulder while remaining concealed. There I saw three crows playing “see-saw”. A broken branch, perhaps four feet long, was balanced, one side longer than the other, on the bare branch of a tree. Two crows were perched on the shorter side, one on the longer. By shifting their weight, or using their wings to unweight their perch, the up and down motion of the see-saw could be maintained. If any of the three flew up, the see-saw would gyrate  so much the others would have to use their wings to maintain posture, or become airborne entirely. In this manner they frequently changed positions, loudly vocalizing and apparently enjoying themselves very much.

Eventually I left to go on with my day. But I have wondered: Had they seen schoolchildren playing see-saw? Did they find this branch and remember? Did they place the branch themselves? Did they invent this game on the spur of the moment by accident? I have no way of knowing. But I have never witnessed the behavior of any non-human animal that demonstrated such a self-aware intelligence and joy of life.