Yesterday, over Centenary Woodland, a relatively new Corvid came on the block when a pair of Ravens briefly made reconnoissance, their deep guttural 'cronk' drawing attention as they lazily floated across the patch, this was soon followed by a cacophony of cawing, hacking, chattering and kyacking as the locals received the news and made calls to order before closing in noisily.
Rooks successfully bred and raised young at nearby Highbury Park two years ago, and whilst they have not been reported since, we now have an impressive record of active crows in the area -
All fearful and respectful of each other, all intelligent, successful and impressive in their own right and each embraced with a variety of feelings by humans, either with hate or admiration, and each having a history of ambivalence stretching back into the mists of time.
I cross the Magpie
The Magpie crosses me
Bad luck to the Magpie
And good luck to me
The Ravens were mobbed with no uncertainty by all but the absent Rooks, and they were last seen diving for cover in Queen Mothers Woodland.
A French tradition holds that bad priests become Ravens and bad nuns become Crows.