Summary

The text describes the author's experiences with aggressive crow behavior in Canberra, which is attributed to human disturbances such as tree felling and nest disturbance, and offers advice on coexisting with crows during their breeding season.

Abstract

The narrative begins with the author's encounter with a swooping crow during a walk, which prompts a conversation with a neighbor who admits to cutting down trees to eliminate morning noise, inadvertently disturbing the crows' nesting. This leads to a reflection on the author's past experiences with magpies in the area, which also became aggressive after human interference, such as nest theft. The author emphasizes the importance of harmonious coexistence with wildlife, suggesting that human actions, particularly those impacting the natural habitat of birds, can lead to defensive behaviors like swooping. The text concludes with practical advice on avoiding crow attacks and the importance of recognizing crows as protective parents and an integral part of the ecosystem.

Opinions

The author implies that human encroachment on bird habitats, such as cutting down trees, is a direct cause of increased aggression in crows.
There is an underlying criticism of urbanization and its impact on wildlife, suggesting that the more we urbanize, the more likely it is for birds like crows to exhibit defensive behaviors.
The author believes that education and awareness, such as understanding the reasons behind crow attacks and taking preventive measures, are key to peaceful cohabitation with urban wildlife.
The text conveys a sense of respect and empathy for crows, viewing their swooping as a natural protective instinct rather than a malicious act.
The author suggests that with time and appropriate human behavior, a harmonious relationship with crows is possible.

The Noise Was Unbearable, Every Darned Morning, He Complained

So they had to get their comeuppance That’s when it clicked. This was war

A couple of weeks ago I was heading towards the restored old railway track for my daily walk.

It’s become a habit. The track is even and well-laid-out. It’s safe.

On this day though, I was only a couple of minutes from home, when a dark cloud passed close to my head. Maybe too close.

I looked up to see a crow flying ahead, but thought little of it, but as I turned right, there it was again, heading straight for me.

As a fully-fledged (excuse the pun) Canberran, I am used to the season, when magpies swoop incessantly during the month of September.

I don’t like it, but I’m used to it. I often carry a stick with me, just to provide a space between them and me.

I know what is happening, so I try not to be afraid. Still, I remain vigilant.

In this instance I decided to return home, and came across a neighbor I’d never spoken to before. I asked him if he’d ever noticed a crow swooping.

He hadn’t.

“They won’t come here,” he assured me. ‘I got rid of all my trees. The morning noise was getting to me, so they had to go.”

“One tree, or two?” I ventured.

“Lordy no! I cut the whole damned lot…seven actually…best thing I ever did.”

And that’s when it dawned on me. He’d disturbed their nesting.

I said nothing. What would have been the point? Did I have enough hours of life left for him to begin to understand?

Becoming Canberrans

When we first came to Canberra we bought in a newly-developed area. It was what we could afford.

The first spring thereafter we were bombed by magpies. Even the children out playing, had to be careful.

Children cycling to school were forced to ride in packs. So many were gouged, often worryingly close to their eyes.

The birds were everywhere, ready for an assault on any unsuspecting human.

My husband and I were distance runners and so, for that month we ran together. The magpies were less likely to attack two…safety in numbers.

Some ten years later we moved not so far away, to halfway up the neighboring mountain. It was a great place for runners, so close to town yet on the fringe of the country.

And the warring magpies were never thought of. That’s because they had no occasion to war. The people who walked or ran around the mountain were no threat to them.

Until one day they were.

And we, need I say, were totally unprepared.

That first year we were all caught out. They were out in force defending their young, swooping, bombing, terrifying the unwary.

This is what happened.

We learned through the media that some boys had stolen from nests.

And that changed everything. I can tell you, running around the mountain in September thereafter, took every ounce of courage I had.

My husband did silly, but effective things, like painting eyes on the back of his cap. It did look silly. I’d no part of that. Still, it worked!

Instead I chose to run with company!

After that, our mountain run was as hazardous as in the newer areas. Human intervention has its price! Besides, maggies as we refer to them (it’s an Aussie thing) never forget a face. If you are swooped one year, they will remember you the next year.

But felling birds’ homes?

For pure convenience/selfishness?

I immediately made the connection between tree felling and crow’s attacking.

Crows traditionally have never swooped, but it seems that now they do.

The more we urbanise our space, their space that is, the more the crow is inclined to swoop.

What we have to do, as with all other creatures, is learn to live harmoniously with them.

Steps to take to avoid being swooped

Crows will attack humans or try to hurt them if they feel threatened by their presence in any way. You can avoid the attack by steering clear of the nesting area, disposing of garbage neatly, dressing differently, carrying an umbrella or hats, and changing your route.
You may become a target for a crow for multiple reasons. Their protective nature makes them view people in their territory as threats. They may attack if they are defending their young, protecting their habitat, want to be fed, or remember you as a threat.
Crow attacks are most common while trying to defend their young because crows devote a lot of time and effort to their offspring. They make a home for several weeks, incubate eggs for up to 20 days, and feed their babies for yet another 30 days.

Twenty days…not much to ask!

It’s important not to see them as villains, but rather as a parent defending to the death, their young.

It’s important to see them as a vital part of the ecosystem.

Bear in mind

protecting their territory and their babies is a natural response
as is swooping
it’s protective rather than an aggressive behavior

For me, my best option is to take up gardening for the duration.

In time we may become friends. They might even get to know that I am on their side. :)