I got a bit of information on Fig's mysterious Ah call which has had me baffled, especially since most of her other communications' meanings now so easily ring true in my ear.
I had a chance to observe three pairs, and two groups of Crows on the morning after garbage day. The local Crows were making the early morning, post garbage pick-up day, breakfast rounds, collecting any food that got dropped in or around the garbage areas outside every building in town early in the morning. It is certainly not unusual to see Crows collecting food after garbage day, but I don't usually get to see both, pairs and groups, on the same morning. Observing both gave me some information I probably wouldn't have noticed without the rapid fire comparisons.
I observed that the pairs were working in the usual way, silently, one bird on the ground, the other acting as look out. If danger came, the bird higher up alerted the bird on the ground by flying up higher, using only the sound of its motion to instantly alert the bird down on the ground of the danger. The pairs are extremely stealthy, like Navy Seals, tightly connected, moving as one, listening as one, using all their senses as one. Vocal calls were only used very sparingly if danger was unusually imminent. It is a truly beautful thing to watch a pair of experienced Crows at work. Their teamwork is a refined and elegant, quiet ballet. Now pairs do say, Ah, but the contexts are different. When a well bonded, properly functioning pair is together, near the ground, that is not a context when Ah seems useful; vocalization is kept to a minimum to avoid drawing predators, competition, or attention.
Now, I also happened to observe a couple of groups doing the same garbage foraging behavior as the pairs, but their behavior and approach is quite different. I assume this is because the groups are younger, less experienced birds. But the difference might be that a different approach is necessary for a larger group. Anyway, the groups are far from silent, and hardly Navy Seal-esque, but one might still make the case that they perform efficiently. I would say the groups compare favorably to a group of average Police Officers: The group moves along as one, but only one or two members moves at a time; so it is like Police on a house raid. Officer One kicks in the door. Officer Two and Three run in. One goes left. One right. Then Four and Five pass them and stop. Etc... The whole time they are yelling things like, I'm going in. Cover me. Clear. The only word the Crows use is Ah (straight, flat intonation). They only way to tell who has said what is by the sound of their individual voices. This is all very commando action movie-esque still, it's just noisier than the mated pair teams. I've read that Ravens attract other Ravens to a source of food intentionally because drawing more birds makes it less likely that they'll get bossed around by the dominant birds, but this does not strike me as the purpose of the group of Jungle Crows noisiness. I think they are simply working well together.
More importantly, I think I have possibly correctly understood that the Ah which Fig is using with me when we are outside is both an indication of her young age, and the nature of our relationship. She clearly sees me as a member of her working group when we are outside together. Her perception is not that I am her mate. That might change as she matures, and I wonder if at some point when we are outside together, in the next couple of years, she will fall almost totally silent, and will we get to a point where she feels that we are functioning as a stealthy real deal "pair". Will we move along silently together, like we are each other's shadows, communicating only by eye-contact, gesture, and the sound of our motions? We are sort of like that at times when we're playing outside, but Fig still reserves a certain amount of "aloof". I can for example engage her in a game when she is up on a wall. I will run this way, and she will leap and fly the other. Then reverse that, and repeat. Or she'll perch on my arm, then watch for a sudden command to leap free and land somewhere else. These sort of tight communication games feel like the wild pairs I see functioning so well. But then, she decides she wants to fly up a tree. She does not yet understand that I am stuck on the ground. If she felt that I was her mate, those "aloof" wandering moments of independence, probably wouldn't happen. Or maybe they do. I sometimes see pairs who seem to be struggling with their teamwork quite a lot. So, I work with Fig outside, and as the older one, I try to positively reinforce, eyecontact, fluidity of response, total attention, and unified focus; it is not like she will have the chance to learn and practice those things with a male Crow, so I have to try and do this for her, just as I give her preening, conversation, affection, etc...
At home, Fig literally says "I love you." appropriately after getting food, water, a bath, affection, etc... and she asks me for attention and affection, and serenades me with never ending love songs...but the truth is, I cannot assume that to mean "I'm in love with you." because that's at home, in a micro-ecosystem. I'm the one that feeds her, washes her, pets her, plays with her, studies with her, etc... There isn't someone she is going to love more in that environment. I'm not saying she is not sincere. I am just saying, in a captive but friendly environment, it is totally natural that the captive is going to develop rapore with the caretaker. It is not that Fig does not love me, she just may not (yet?) feel "in love" with me. Outside, she may well be thinking she's gonna score a real deal, real Crow boyfriend someday, and that would be super, if a disabled male Crow ever came into our lives. It remains to be seen if Fig's love for me will one day develop into her falling in love with me. Is that even possible for a Crow to actually fall in love with a human? I suspect it is, but as her call suggests, or rather, as her contextual use of the call Ah suggests, she is not yet either physiologically or psychologically interested in being a pair...it's still a group thing. Ah.
I had a chance to observe three pairs, and two groups of Crows on the morning after garbage day. The local Crows were making the early morning, post garbage pick-up day, breakfast rounds, collecting any food that got dropped in or around the garbage areas outside every building in town early in the morning. It is certainly not unusual to see Crows collecting food after garbage day, but I don't usually get to see both, pairs and groups, on the same morning. Observing both gave me some information I probably wouldn't have noticed without the rapid fire comparisons.
I observed that the pairs were working in the usual way, silently, one bird on the ground, the other acting as look out. If danger came, the bird higher up alerted the bird on the ground by flying up higher, using only the sound of its motion to instantly alert the bird down on the ground of the danger. The pairs are extremely stealthy, like Navy Seals, tightly connected, moving as one, listening as one, using all their senses as one. Vocal calls were only used very sparingly if danger was unusually imminent. It is a truly beautful thing to watch a pair of experienced Crows at work. Their teamwork is a refined and elegant, quiet ballet. Now pairs do say, Ah, but the contexts are different. When a well bonded, properly functioning pair is together, near the ground, that is not a context when Ah seems useful; vocalization is kept to a minimum to avoid drawing predators, competition, or attention.
Now, I also happened to observe a couple of groups doing the same garbage foraging behavior as the pairs, but their behavior and approach is quite different. I assume this is because the groups are younger, less experienced birds. But the difference might be that a different approach is necessary for a larger group. Anyway, the groups are far from silent, and hardly Navy Seal-esque, but one might still make the case that they perform efficiently. I would say the groups compare favorably to a group of average Police Officers: The group moves along as one, but only one or two members moves at a time; so it is like Police on a house raid. Officer One kicks in the door. Officer Two and Three run in. One goes left. One right. Then Four and Five pass them and stop. Etc... The whole time they are yelling things like, I'm going in. Cover me. Clear. The only word the Crows use is Ah (straight, flat intonation). They only way to tell who has said what is by the sound of their individual voices. This is all very commando action movie-esque still, it's just noisier than the mated pair teams. I've read that Ravens attract other Ravens to a source of food intentionally because drawing more birds makes it less likely that they'll get bossed around by the dominant birds, but this does not strike me as the purpose of the group of Jungle Crows noisiness. I think they are simply working well together.
More importantly, I think I have possibly correctly understood that the Ah which Fig is using with me when we are outside is both an indication of her young age, and the nature of our relationship. She clearly sees me as a member of her working group when we are outside together. Her perception is not that I am her mate. That might change as she matures, and I wonder if at some point when we are outside together, in the next couple of years, she will fall almost totally silent, and will we get to a point where she feels that we are functioning as a stealthy real deal "pair". Will we move along silently together, like we are each other's shadows, communicating only by eye-contact, gesture, and the sound of our motions? We are sort of like that at times when we're playing outside, but Fig still reserves a certain amount of "aloof". I can for example engage her in a game when she is up on a wall. I will run this way, and she will leap and fly the other. Then reverse that, and repeat. Or she'll perch on my arm, then watch for a sudden command to leap free and land somewhere else. These sort of tight communication games feel like the wild pairs I see functioning so well. But then, she decides she wants to fly up a tree. She does not yet understand that I am stuck on the ground. If she felt that I was her mate, those "aloof" wandering moments of independence, probably wouldn't happen. Or maybe they do. I sometimes see pairs who seem to be struggling with their teamwork quite a lot. So, I work with Fig outside, and as the older one, I try to positively reinforce, eyecontact, fluidity of response, total attention, and unified focus; it is not like she will have the chance to learn and practice those things with a male Crow, so I have to try and do this for her, just as I give her preening, conversation, affection, etc...
At home, Fig literally says "I love you." appropriately after getting food, water, a bath, affection, etc... and she asks me for attention and affection, and serenades me with never ending love songs...but the truth is, I cannot assume that to mean "I'm in love with you." because that's at home, in a micro-ecosystem. I'm the one that feeds her, washes her, pets her, plays with her, studies with her, etc... There isn't someone she is going to love more in that environment. I'm not saying she is not sincere. I am just saying, in a captive but friendly environment, it is totally natural that the captive is going to develop rapore with the caretaker. It is not that Fig does not love me, she just may not (yet?) feel "in love" with me. Outside, she may well be thinking she's gonna score a real deal, real Crow boyfriend someday, and that would be super, if a disabled male Crow ever came into our lives. It remains to be seen if Fig's love for me will one day develop into her falling in love with me. Is that even possible for a Crow to actually fall in love with a human? I suspect it is, but as her call suggests, or rather, as her contextual use of the call Ah suggests, she is not yet either physiologically or psychologically interested in being a pair...it's still a group thing. Ah.
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