Sound an Alarm!

Williamwisephoto Nature Notes is a wildlife, landscape, birding and nature photography blog documenting the wonders of God’s creation. -- Numbers 10:9 And when you go to war in your land against the adversary who oppresses you, then you shall sound an alarm with the trumpets, that you may be remembered before the LORD your God, and you shall be saved from your enemies.

“Caw! Caw! Caw!”  The sound of the alarm broke the still afternoon air. It was a pleasant Labor Day afternoon. A passing rain shower had dropped the summer temperature about 8 degrees. It was humid, but what does that matter when the most strenuous activity planned is sitting on the front porch reading Bartram’s Travels. In the silence, I couldn’t help but hear the American Crows (Corvus brachyrhynchos) going at it. 

Crows are great for sounding the alarm to all other inhabitants, whether listening or not, that an oppressive adversary is near. Whenever I hear crows sounding alarm I take notice, knowing a wildlife photo-op may be materializing. If they sound the alarm in the in the air, there is normally a hawk nearby; if sounding the alarm on the ground, there’s a snake. I have even read the account of one 19th century naturalist on the trail of some game when he was alerted to danger by crows. While stalking his prey, the overhead alarms alerted him that he himself was predator turned prey. A Mountain Lion (Felis concolor) was tracking him as stealthily as he was his game. 

On this afternoon, two crows were sitting and cawing in the top of a tall, slender White Oak (Quercus alba) across the street. All of the White Oaks in our neighborhood have been affected by a blithe causing them to loose most of their foliage and lateral branches. Most stand as snags with bushy bundles of leaves near the trunk in their middle sections, leaving the top branches bare for perching birds and woodpecker activity. The calls of the two crows quickly drew in several more. Each new crow to arrive flew straight toward the oak, dove at the crown, then turned upward into a vertical climb of about twenty feet before settling back down to perch nearby and raise a racket. I discerned the arriving crows were dive-bombing some adversary hidden in the White Oak tree. But what foe deserved such a greeting?

I didn’t have to wait long. After the arrival of the eleventh dive-bombing crow, the oppressor emerged. Flying gracefully from the oak as if no crow were jaunting him, a Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) took flight. His straight course southwest seemed undeterred by the loud, cajoling crows which all followed him in tow like a bunch of playground bullies. But the hawk, larger than his bullies, seemed unaffected and gave not the impression that it was the cackling crows that dislodged him from his perch. Nevertheless, the crows were quite satisfied that their calls of alarm had saved all from the enemy. 
 
Though I didn’t get any photos of this aerial battle, the scene was repeated a few weeks later on September 28, 2012. This time, the Nikon was in hand and the battle was close enough to document with my 300mm lens. 

​After being incessantly chased and harassed by the group of crows, one flying daringly close on his red-tailed end, the gorgeous Red-tailed Hawk, perhaps the same from the previous battle, perched again across from my house. While majestically poised on a perfect perch, the crows kept up the alarm for at least fifteen minutes. Unable to drive off their oppressor, the crows finally left the area. But a brave little Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) flew up to throw in his few insults. 

​With my neighborhood having more action than a World War II aerial campaign, I was privy to another, but quicker and less raucous, aerial show. Sitting on my front porch at 7:54 AM, coffee in hand, on September 22, my eye was caught by two large birds darting from the snags. The oppressive adversary, this time a Red-shouldered Hawk (Buteo lineatus) swooped swiftly down towards a quickly retreating Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus). This battle was over in one dive, the Pileated deciding there were plenty of other trees to hammer without angry hawks on guard.  Had the crows been there to raise the alarm, the woodpecker may have been saved from the fearful chase of this oppressive adversary.