Sunday, Jan 31st

I've stayed inddors today, not being well.
Sorry, ravens.
Better day tomorrow ...

Jan 30th

It was freezingly cold this morning. No songbirds to be heard, but there were some raven calls around 6 a.m.

I left the house at 7.55 a.m. The sun was just coming up, the sky was clear, and there was a thin sprinkling of snow on the ground everywhere. 

Did I say it was very cold, well below freezing? It was ...!

No raven calls or ravens as I walked from the first field to the big field, but as I came to the spinney, there was one, in one of trees, calling. His companion then flew to one of the big sycamores to the left of the spinney. 

As they were flying to the ground in the ravens field, following me, a lively spaniel turned up, rushing at them, chasing them, barking, ears flapping. So they retreated to the safety of the trees and only came to the ground once that dog had gone, and I was well on my way to the enclosure. 

They were the young pair, showing all the behaviour I've seen previously.

There was one behaviour which I noticed today for the first time: when I look at one of these ravens, he starts wiping his beak, against the ground or against the post he's sitting on. Some sort of displacement behaviour, I believe.

Going back the 'more food' way, after these two had flown off to hide their food, the first ravens to turn up in the big field were my quarry pair. The were as skittish as always, and still kept their distance. 

Then, the bold pair turned up. The bold one always is so keen to get all and any scraps! His companion always waits until he goes to hide his booty - and she seems to erect the feathers on her head when she is alone and other ravens are around.

Then a third pair appeared, from the toddlers' playground.

All got their scraps, until I had run out. There were no scuffles, but I noticed that one of the quarry pair seemed to have a tiny spot on his chest where he must have lost a few feathers.

They all stopped following me when Bas turned up, rushing up to me: what a lovely sight!

More freezing temperatures tomorrow, perhaps some snow, but some sunshine to start the morning with: the ravens won't mind, I'm sure!

Jan 29th

Just like yesterday, the songbirds, such as robins and blackbirds, were shouting their hearts out at 6 a.m., but not one raven called. It was still night rather than pre-dawn. The ravens only started calling about an hour later. 

I left the house at 7.30 a.m. on the dot. The rain had stopped, but the dark clouds still hid the light of dawn. The wind, from the North West, was strong and cold.

I heard the first raven call when I got to the top of the big field. He was sitting on one of the bigger trees in the spinney. As I entered the ravens field, he first flew to sit on a branch of the huge sycamore to the left, then he came to the ground. His companion had meanwhile flown into the enclosure.

It was my young pair, both still quite shy, still waiting for me to move on before picking up the scrap.

 

After I'd been round the enclosure, throwing scraps, and was on the way back to the big field, just approaching the spinney, a single raven flew over us, rather low. 

First one, then both of my young pair flew up and chased this intruder away. Well, they tried - he came back a few times, but in the end they did get rid of him. 

I went to the big field the 'more food' way. My young pair did not follow, but to my surprise, after I'd walked on a bit, my bold pair turned up! 

As with my young pair, they were still a bit uncertain because there was no Madame with me - but then the bold one just went on scoffing the scraps.

The quarry pair now turned up as well. They also got their scraps, and as before, they were very skittish. There were no scuffles between the two pairs. 

This time I got rid of every single scrap, but interestingly, the ravens did not follow me, begging. The reason was that this flock of black-headed sea gulls turned up again, circling over. 

I am taking note of this, because with the days lengthening, and the breeding season approaching, I expect to see changes in the behaviour of the birds, as well as in the way they partition the time they spend in the various playing fields here.

Jan 28th

Early in the morning, before dawn breaks, all one can her now are the robins. The ravens start calling about an hour later.

It was mild when I left the house at 7.40 a.m., the wind from the North East had not picked up yet. There were thick clouds both in the East, hiding the dawn light, and in the West. But in between were patches of clear sky, tinted a delicate pale blue and soft yellowy pink.

I went along the wall near the first field. Madame loved walking along the wall and he trees. It is like a huge dog newspaper.

When I got to the top of the big field, there were raven calls, and I saw one, who flew from one of the tall trees in the spinney further down into a smaller one. As I rounded the spinney into the ravens field, no raven was there on the grass.

But then, getting to the enclosure, there they were, sitting on a fence post, one to the right, one to the lft of me. I hadn't seen them  flying there, because it was still too dark. 

Again, it was my young pair, and again they were very shy, picking up the scraps I threw into the enclosure only after my back was turned. Going back into the big field the 'more food' way, none followed at first - then one came, flying to the ground. His companion did not come, and he flew off after he'd got a couple more scraps. The quarry pair did not turn up, nor did my bold raven.

I assume the flock of little black-headed gulls circling overhead kept them away.

And then there were Toby and Cookie, the Border Collies, with their owners. I went up to talk to them. Both had lost dogs before, so they knew what it is like for me. Both miss Madame, who always was so happy to greet them with ecstatic face licks. 

Again, I had scraps left over when I went back home - they used to be for our last little obedience exercise. I still can see her happyy face, looking up expectantly, tail wagging, smiling, doing her heel work ...

Jan 27th

The ravens calls I heard in the distance, early this morning, were nearly drowned out  by the robins' songs.

I left the house at 7.30 a.m., to an incipient dawn, with the light in the East hidden behind thick, dark clouds. It was cold, the temperature was just below freezing.

There were no ravens when I walked to the ravens field, using a route which Madame used to love walking and sniffing in the spring and summer. So I suddenly appeared in the ravens field from yet another direction - but one raven, sitting in one of the maples at the tennis court fence, made a soft quorking sound - he had seen me. 

At first I went to the wall, to the bench - and he did come to the ground, following me - but keeping a good five yards away. His companion was in the enclosure, but came when I started to throw scraps. They were my young pair, and they were much more shy and diffident than the last time I saw them, with Madame still at my side.

I went to the enclosure and threw more scraps into it - both ravens again keeping well on the opposite side to where I was standing. 

I left by walking into the spinney, the way Madame loved to walk, and came out on the side of the big field where she always came out. One raven had flown to sit on one of the small wild cherry trees at the spinney, as if checking that I was leaving the 'no more food' way. Sorry about that, ravens!

They did fly to the ground, at the top of the big field, when they saw me there, and got some more scraps. Still, they kept well away, and then went off before I had finished. The quarry pair did not turn up today. There were no dogs around at that time, not close nor in the distance, so I don't know what happened.

I went home, with just the amount of scraps left which would have gone into Madame, as reward for her good behaviour.

I miss her more than I can say.