The boyz are back in the hood now that we are firmly in the grip of winter and Gloria the raven is being left out in the cold.
The “boyz” are a flock of black currawongs which descend on my neighbourhood from their usual kunanyi/Mt Wellington stronghold about the time the first frosts appear on garden lawns.
The boyz, of course, include females and these 20-strong flocks appear as just one big raucous gang out to cause mayhem in suburban gardens.
The forest ravens – particularly the female I call Gloria – usually rule the roost in my garden but they have to move over when the currawongs arrive in such large number.
What is remarkable about the currawongs is that they turn up at just about the same time every year, and also know that my home in the Waterworks Valley is a regular source of food. Each morning I feed Gloria with scraps from the meal of the night before – or cheese if there is no meat available – and the currawongs that have moved into the valley in winter have also learned to turn up at feeding time.
Gloria, in turn, has learned not to call for food as she usually does, so as not to attract the currawongs’ attention. She sits on a neighbourhood roof which is in view of my kitchen window, patiently waiting for me to notice her.
I then sneak onto the lawn and lay out the food before the currawongs notice.
Also remarkable is how the currawongs send out scouts throughout the neighbourhood who report back to the flock when they find food. Either this, or they let out a variation of the currawong’s trumpet call to alert the others.
No sooner has one currawong arrived than the others fly in. I’m convinced of this currawong communication but it could be that they watch each other, and as soon as one vanishes from sight they investigate.
Studying vultures in Africa many years ago I soon discovered that these scavengers do the same thing. They fly in circles over their own territories, all the while watching other vultures of various species in neighbouring areas. As soon as a vulture goes to ground the next vulture down the line flies to investigate, triggering a chain reaction among the vulture population.
This year’s currawong watch has been especially interesting because another species, the grey currawong, has also turned up. They may be termed “grey” but the Tasmanian sub-species of a currawong also found on the mainland is actually black in colour, resembling the endemic black ones. It can be identified by the white feathers it has under its tail and also its bigger size. This gives the grey currawong an advantage over the black currawongs in fights for food.
Gloria keeps out of these currawong turf wars. Meanwhile, our special bond has been enhanced by our mutual efforts to outsmart these unwelcome visitors.