It’s 9:30 on a cool summer night in the Upper Valley—the orogenous area surrounding the Connecticut River in New Hampshire and Vermont. My friends and I are making the steep journey up the unfamiliar grass-covered slopes of the Dartmouth Skiway. With sleeping bags, no signal, and only a slight idea of where our cabin is, we trek upwards using our phones’ flashlights. We hear the crunch of leaves under our feet, unspecified animals rustling, and echoes in the woods. Some of the less outdoorsy members seem on edge, eager to reach somewhere with walls and a roof. A loud whine startles Tom, not helped by the stories we’ve told of potential bear and coyote sightings. I chuckle and affirm, “Tom, that was an owl.”
Identifiable in the darkness by its tremolo, an even-pitched trill that bounces through the trees, the eastern screech owl (Megascops asio) is one of the most common owls across the United States. They inhabit the Great Lakes down to the bottom of Texas, and from western Kansas to the Atlantic coast (Cornell Lab of Ornithology, 2024). Throughout such a vast range, they have adapted well to living alongside humans; it is one of the few birds of prey (raptors) that nest in New York City and other urban settings. Unlike many other raptors, the eastern screech owl has demonstrated a positive relationship with lower forest cover. In smaller green spaces, such as suburban parks, they thrive where larger predators cannot, thereby facing less competition for available prey (Nagy, 2012). However, smaller urbanized parks with impervious surfaces restrict their populations. Additionally, residing in concentrated residential or commercial areas increases their risk of human-related mortality and restricts movement to other populations.
Challenges of a Changing Climate
Eastern screech owls face danger from increasing development and changing conditions caused by climate change. A 30-year study in Texas, where annual temperatures rose by more than 20℉ due to the heat-island effect, saw changes in the timing of hatching (Gehlbach, 2012). Temporal change can alter how species intermix with their food, prey, and habitat as they adapt at different rates and may fall out of their population niches.
Their ability to thrive in such myriad environments comes from their variations in size and color. Their heights vary from roughly 6 to 10 inches, and their wingspan from 18 to 24 inches. This, combined with their lack of a neck, raised ear tufts, and short tail, gives them a rounded, unintimidating shape. Their smaller size contributes to their ability to camouflage into their environment. Most plumage ranges from grey to brown to a rusty red, adapted to the environment around them. Populations in southern states, like Texas, typically see higher numbers of red, and Northern states find more grey. In evergreen or deciduous forests, the eastern screech blends in meticulously with the trees (Lockwood, M. W., 2021).
This adaptation allows eastern screech owls to make quick work of their wide variety of prey. It’s a resourceful bird, consuming small rodents like mice, smaller birds, and insects. It plays an important role as a mesopredator, a mid-ranking role in the food web, that keeps lower populations in check, while also serving as prey for others. Still, their camouflage protects them from such predators. Larger owls and hawks, mammals like raccoons and mink, and even interspecies hunting by other eastern screech owls look to them for food; don’t be fooled by their small packages, these owls are fierce! (Chesapeake Bay Program). Whether waiting to swoop down from their perch, or in some cases fishing at water edges, the eastern screech owl is prepped to use its clawed feet against any foe (Peregrine Fund).
Conservation and Coexistence
While the eastern screech owl is resilient, they’re at risk too. By protecting existing populations through green spaces and human-based amenities, like nest boxes, we can contribute to their preservation. Community-led efforts like “Lights Out” campaigns, designed to reduce bird collisions and habitat disruptions, can also help.
Ryan Hill is currently an undergraduate student at Dartmouth College studying Environmental Studies and Studio Art. He is passionate about the conservation of local biodiversity and learning more about the ecosystems that make up our planet. He takes artistic inspiration from the natural world and admires the beauty of small insect colonies, to widespread old-growth forests.
Lockwood, M. W. (2021). WESTERN SCREECH-OWL and EASTERN SCREECH-OWL. In Basic Texas Birds (pp. 172–173). University of Texas Press. https://doi.org/10.7560/713499-082
Gehlbach, F. R. (2012). Eastern Screech-Owl Responses to Suburban Sprawl, Warmer Climate, and Additional Avian Food in Central Texas. The Wilson Journal of Ornithology, 124(3), 630–633. https://doi.org/10.1676/11-157.1
What species sang part of a Mozart concerto and got its own musical tribute in return?
European Starling (Image Credit: Наталия via iNaturalist)
During my studies in urban governance, we took a course on complex systems thinking. I’ll spare you the technical details, but we learned that starling bird flocks were commonly used in the discipline to illustrate how complex systems work and emerge. The core idea was that complex systems are made up of many interacting components that, together, give rise to large-scale, coordinated behavior.
Years later, after I’d moved to the southern end of Rotterdam, I was hanging out in my living room, looked out the window, and there it was: a gigantic flock of starlings swirling through the sky. It was one of the most breathtaking natural events I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing. And honestly, in a city like this, it might be one of the only natural events you can witness from the comfort of your living room or backyard.
Since then, I’ve spent countless hours watching these flocks from my rooftop during the months when they migrate through the city. As mesmerizing as it is to see them dancing in the sky, it’s even more incredible to watch them land. Just behind my house is a community garden with a few tall trees. The starlings will form a massive swarm around a tree, circling it with this eerie coordination. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, one bird dives into the branches — and within seconds, hundreds follow. The sound that follows is something else entirely: the collective chirping of all those birds packed into one tree fills the whole neighborhood. It’s chaotic, but in the most beautiful way.
More Than a Blur in the Sky: A Closer Look at the Starling
I was often confused about what exactly a starling bird was. Their song was always striking to me, but I noticed something odd: two very different-looking birds seemed to be making the same kind of sounds. At first, I assumed it might be a gender difference. But after doing a little research, I learned something fascinating: starlings change their appearance with the seasons, adopting a specialized breeding plumage during the mating season.
In the fall and winter, starlings appear dark with cream-colored speckles scattered across their bodies. But in spring and summer, when males enter breeding season, they undergo a striking transformation. Their feathers turn glossy and iridescent, shimmering with greens and purples, especially along their nape, breast, back, and wings.
Many birds change their plumage to attract a mate. Ducks are a classic example you might already be familiar with. But what makes starlings unique is how they transition. Unlike most birds, which molt (shed and replace their feathers) before breeding season, starlings don’t actually molt at all. Instead, they lose their spots through abrasion. The speckles we see in winter are just the cream-colored tips of their feathers. As the season progresses, these tips gradually wear off from contact and movement, revealing darker, melanin-rich parts of the feathers underneath. Melanin makes those parts more resistant to wear, so while the pale tips disappear, richer tones remain, just in time for mating season.
Interestingly, adult females don’t become as glossy or glittering as their male counterparts. They tend to retain more of their pale speckles, giving them a lighter, spottier appearance that makes them relatively easy to distinguish.
Adult male (bottom) and female (top) starlings. Image Credit: Franck Curk via iNaturalistStarling sporting its non breeding plumage Image Credit: cccrll via iNaturalist
Nesting: Homes, Herbs, and the Hunt for a Male
With breeding plumage in place, unpaired males seek out suitable nesting sites and begin building nests to attract females. To impress, they decorate their bachelor pads with flowers, greenery, and even herbs. It’s theorized that the quantity and quality of these ornaments play a role in courtship, helping males stand out in a competitive mating environment. Interestingly, once a female chooses a mate, she typically disassembles the decorations he so carefully arranged.
Turns out, birds might also be into a bit of aromatherapy — when they add herbs to their nests, they seem to chill out and parent better. The cozy, scented setup is linked to more positive vibes during egg-sitting duty.
Another curious aspect of their nesting behavior is how females lay their eggs. A typical clutch consists of 4 to 6 eggs per year, but if the first egg is removed — by a predator, researcher, or accident — the female will sometimes continue laying more eggs in an effort to compensate and make the clutch “whole” again.
If the home decor isn’t enough to impress a mate, ambitious bachelors have another trick up their wings: their song. These birds are among nature’s finest impressionists.
European starlings have a rich and varied vocal repertoire — clicks, whistles, rattles, snarls — and an extraordinary talent for mimicry. They can imitate other birds, animals, and even human-made sounds like car alarms.
This video highlights the incredible variety of sounds starlings are capable of producing.
This song plays a key role in courtship. Males sing to mark territory, attract mates, and signal their fitness. Often, these songs are performed near a decorated nest, combining sound, sight, and scent into a single courtship display. Research suggests females may prefer males with larger song repertoires, which could indicate intelligence, health, or age.
This vocal ability has long captivated humans. Mozart famously owned a pet starling that could sing part of one of his piano concertos. Urban legend holds that his piece A Musical Joke was inspired by the bird’s playful, unpredictable style, a feathered composer in his own right.Here’s a link to A Musical Joke if you’re curious, you decide!
Black Suns and Bird Ballets: The Science Behind Starling Flocks
As captivating as a single starling may be — with its shimmering feathers and complex song — their true magic emerges in numbers. When thousands gather, they move with a grace and synchronicity that seems almost unreal.
A murmuration of starlings at Gretna. (Image Credit: Walter Baxter via WikiCommons)
Starling flocks, called murmurations, are most often seen in winter when the birds gather to roost in huge numbers. Just after sunset, they form breathtaking patterns in the sky before settling for the night.
These movements are often likened to a kind of dance or aerial ballet. When the flocks grow large enough, they can even appear to obliterate the setting sun, a phenomenon so striking it inspired the Danish term “sort sol,” or “black sun.”
These spectacular displays aren’t just for show — these murmurations help protect against predators by confusing and overwhelming their vision, making it difficult to single out any specific target. They also aid in communication and guide birds to communal roosts, especially during colder months
But how do these birds move with such perfect synchronicity? It almost looks choreographed, but it’s not like the birds wake up early and go to synchronized flight practice to drill until everyone hits their marks. What’s actually happening is that starling flocks are showing off a rare and fascinating phenomenon called scale-free correlation. Sounds complicated, sure, but it’s actually pretty simple.
It means that the birds’ movements are coordinated no matter where you look in the flock — whether you’re watching birds that are right next to each other or birds that are far apart. The changes ripple through the entire group almost instantly.
What’s even more amazing is that there’s no leader. Unlike geese, which follow a clear leader in formation, starling flocks are totally decentralized. Each bird watches and responds to just its 7 closest neighbors — that’s it. But because every bird is doing this at the same time, the entire flock ends up moving as one super-organism.
It’s like a message passing through the flock: when one bird moves, its neighbors adjust, and their neighbors adjust, and so on. This chain reaction spreads through the whole group — and that’s what we mean by scale-free correlation: coordination that works across any size or distance, without a central controller.
See the coordinated movement of thousands of starlings in this short video of a murmuration in action:
Watching them gather in those immense, swirling formations from my rooftop — the very phenomenon that first sparked my interest years earlier — brought everything full circle. What once was an abstract example in a systems theory class had become a living, breathing presence in my everyday life.
And what’s perhaps most astonishing of all is that this beauty isn’t just instinct — it’s adaptation in action.
Global Spread and Genetic Genius
Few avian species have been as globally successful as the European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris). Today, starlings can be found thriving on every continent except Antarctica — a remarkable feat for a bird species that, in many places, didn’t even exist 150 years ago.
North America’s starlings trace back to a strange little story: in the 1890s, a group of Shakespeare fans released about 100 birds in Central Park, hoping to populate the continent with every bird mentioned in his plays. Most of their efforts fizzled — but the starlings didn’t. They took off, quite literally, and today their descendants are spread far and wide across the U.S., Canada, and even into the Caribbean and Central America.
Elsewhere, starlings were introduced intentionally for pest control, such as in Australia, South Africa, and New Zealand, where they were thought to help manage insect populations in agricultural settings.
But what is it about this species that has allowed it to become so incredibly widespread?
Part of what makes starlings so successful is how adaptive they are. They’re just as comfortable in cities as they are in farmland, nesting in everything from building vents to backyard trees. As long as there’s something to eat, bugs, grains, scraps, they’ll make it work.
They’re also smart; starlings have big brains for their size and it shows. They can solve problems, learn from each other, and figure out new ways to find food when times get tough. And they’re almost never alone. Whether foraging, roosting, or migrating, they move as a group, watching, listening, adapting together. It’s part of what makes them so good at surviving in unfamiliar places.
Starlings also exhibit what’s known as environmental niche flexibility, meaning they can adjust their physical or behavioral traits in response to a wide range of environmental conditions. It enables them to inhabit ecosystems ranging from humid woodlands to dry grasslands with relative ease.
What’s more, they’re not just surviving across these ecosystems, they’re evolving. In just over the course of a century, starlings in North America have started adapting to their new homes. Arizona birds are showing signs of handling heat and dryness, while their cousins up in the Pacific Northwest are built for cool and damp. It’s a rare, real-time glimpse of evolution in motion.
But this incredible adaptability also brings starlings into conflict with human systems, particularly in agricultural landscapes, where their success reveals deeper tensions between wildlife and the ways we use the land.
Starling bird in flight. (Image Credit: Radu L via iNaturalist)
Fields of Conflict: Starlings and Agriculture
The more I learned about starlings, the more I realized their story is tangled up in ours, especially in how we farm. These birds didn’t set out to invade feedlots and barns. They ended up there because the open meadows they once thrived in are disappearing.
Starlings evolved to forage in grasslands, digging through the soil for grubs and larvae. But as fields are replaced by monocultures filled with pesticides, they’ve had to adapt — and fast. Livestock farms offered what the land no longer did: bugs in the soil, water to drink, and plenty of places to nest. It’s not that they prefer our barns. It’s just that there’s nowhere else to go.
The irony is that what farmers often see as nuisance behavior is really just resilience in action, starlings making do in a landscape that’s no longer built for them.
For these farmers, starlings can be a real headache. They sneak into barns, eat livestock feed, and leave behind messes that can damage equipment and pose health risks. And they’re clever, most scare tactics only work for a little while before the birds figure them out. Remember those big brains? So while their presence speaks to larger ecological loss, the day-to-day impact is very real for people trying to make a living off the land.
Despite their reputation as a nuisance in agriculture, starlings are actually experiencing serious population declines — not only in their native range but also in parts of their introduced range, including the UK and North America.
This is often overlooked in public discourse. In the UK, for instance, starlings are now a protected species, due to sharp population drops attributed largely to the loss of high-quality foraging habitats and changes in land use.
Interestingly, their decline has not led to a rebound in the native species they’re often accused of displacing — suggesting that habitat loss, not species competition, may be the deeper issue.
It’s easy to label starlings as pests — especially in an industrial system where every loss counts. But that framing often misses the bigger picture. Their presence on farms isn’t just about opportunism; it’s about what’s missing from the land. If pastures were healthier and ecosystems more intact, maybe starlings wouldn’t need to forage in feed troughs or nest in sheds.
If agriculture were managed more sustainably, with more permanent pasture and diversified cropping systems, it’s likely that starlings would rely less on feed troughs and barns. In this light, controlling starling populations without addressing the root causes of their shifting behavior may be shortsighted.
Conservation in their native range should focus on restoring pasture ecosystems and rebuilding invertebrate populations. In their invasive range, managing their numbers in sensitive areas is important — but must go hand-in-hand with reconsidering how intensive farming practices shape the ecological playing field.
Each season, I look up from the same rooftop, and the starlings are there — not thriving, not vanishing, just enduring in the spaces we’ve left behind. Their presence doesn’t signal ecological balance, nor does it mark collapse. Instead, it speaks to something quieter: the capacity of life to persist in the margins, to find rhythm in disruption, and to adapt — however imperfectly — to a world in flux. In them, I see the echoes of our choices and the quiet, complicated resilience of the wild.
Lakhena Park holds degrees in Public Policy and Human Rights Law but has recently shifted her focus toward sustainability, ecosystem restoration, and regenerative agriculture. Passionate about reshaping food systems, she explores how agroecology and land management practices can restore biodiversity, improve soil health, and build resilient communities. She is currently preparing to pursue a Permaculture Design Certificate (PDC) to deepen her understanding of regenerative practices. Fun fact: Pigs are her favorite farm animal—smart, playful, and excellent at turning soil, they embody everything she loves about regenerative farming.
The iconic red plumage of the Northern Cardinal is a staple of backyard gardens across the Eastern United States and Mexico, and is a rare example of a species thriving amidst the expansion of the built environment. While Cardinalis cardinalis is a marker of springtime in New England, these non-migratory birds make permanent homes in open woodlands, thickets, and backyards, their striking red feathers bringing a welcome burst of color to the white backdrop of northern winters.
When March rolls around, starting the cardinal breeding season, you’ll begin to hear the mating calls of female birds. Some of the most vocal songbirds around, the Northern Cardinal has a wide variety of chirps, whistles, calls, and songs – even duets unique to mated pairs – that serve a range of purposes. Their vocal acrobatics and flashy appearance have made them a favorite among birders and state governments alike. The Northern Cardinal is the state bird of Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina, Ohio, Virginia, and West Virginia – the nation’s most popular choice with 7 state titles.
Cardinals were originally named for the male bird’s resemblance to the bright red robes and caps of the cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church. In 1983, the “Northern” qualifier was added to differentiate the bird from its Southern cousins, including species like the Yellow Cardinal. Male Northern Cardinals possess those iconic red feathers, while the female is less flamboyant: brown in color with a reddish tint that is most noticeable while in flight. The male’s vibrancy may be useful to attract a mate, but the more neutral brown of the female helps to camouflage the nest during the incubation of eggs and subsequent brooding of chicks. This results in a natural division of parenting duties.
Mating calls announce the start of nesting season in early March, and the cardinals’ prolific musical repertoire can be heard through late August or September. Northern cardinals select one mate for the extent of the breeding season and divide up the parenting responsibilities. With the red of the males easily spotted by predators, only the females sit on the nest. The males are resigned to foraging, allowed back to the nest only when a chirp from the female signals the coast is clear.
Cardinal chicks feed primarily on nutrient-rich insects until they leave the nest 10 days after hatching. After the chicks fledge, or grow their flight feathers, the parents continue to feed the young birds for another month or more, transitioning them to a granivorous diet consisting of seeds and grain – easily shelled by their conical, orange beaks – with the occasional berry or insect. Around June, the cardinal parents are free to start their next brood. Northern cardinals often raise two rounds of chicks, ranging from 1-3 eggs per nest for a total of 3-5 eggs per season. Territories are fiercely defended by males, who are often seen attacking their own reflection in windows and mirrors. You can’t be too careful!
When the mating season winds down in late summer, it is not uncommon to spot the occasional bald cardinal, but don’t worry, the birds aren’t sick! Cardinals usually replace their crest feathers gradually throughout the summer, but sometimes they’re all molted at once, exposing their dark skin. The effect is only temporary, with their notable crest growing back in a matter of weeks.
Image by Ryan Pagois (Eagan, MN)
A well-adapted species
While most species around the world are confronting immense challenges and population declines as a result of urbanization and global warming, the range and population of Northern Cardinals is actually increasing. The growth of suburbs has increased their nesting habitat, as the birds favor the thick branches of bushes and shrubs, common in woodland edges and backyard gardens. Their expansion has been aided by the presence of birdfeeders, providing cardinals with an easy food source in urban areas that give them an advantage over most native bird species. (Sunflower seeds are a cardinal’s preferred snack, for anyone looking to attract these beautiful birds.)
Cardinals may be more protected in urban areas with an absence of larger predators, but they still play a role in their local ecosystems. They serve as seed-dispersers as they forage for food, and can become a meal for the occasional predator. Domestic cats and dogs do pose a threat to them, as do hawks and owls, while small snakes, squirrels, chipmunks, and blue jays tend to go after cardinal eggs. However, cardinals have proved exceptionally adaptable in the age of human expansion. Their range has crept northward to Maine and southern Canada in the past 100 years as temperatures increase, with Northern Cardinals now numbering around 130 million.
While not a species of concern, may we continue to pay attention to and take inspiration from the Northern Cardinal, a proven adapter to the Anthropocene and a gentle backyard reminder of the beautiful sights and sounds of the natural world.
With a spring in my step, Ryan
Ryan Pagois is a climate advocate and systems thinker serving as an Associate Director at Built Environment Plus, helping to drive sustainable building solutions in MA. He is passionate about urban ecology, carbon balance, and rewilding cities. He is excited to pursue a Masters of Ecological Design at the Conway School starting this fall, to explore how low-impact urban development can be our greatest climate solution and community resilience tool. He grew up in Minnesota and studied environmental policy and international relations at Boston University.
What mammal makes a mysterious sound that scientists can’t figure out, can jump straight up to a height eight times their body length, and loves us when we love them?
Felis catus, the mostly tame, sometimes feral, house cat!
Oly (aka Olyneuropathy) the Tabby Photo by Maya Dutta
Cats domesticated us humans around 7500 BCE, once we began growing grain – and we needed someone to control the annoying mice that ate it. Cats found this to be a pretty good deal and the feeling was mutual. The relationship worked so well that Felis catus became one of the top ten most populous mammals on Earth, with approximately 700 million of them today.
By the way, if you want to sound cool when there’s a group of them around, you may refer to the numerous felines as a clowder or glaring of cats (as in, “Look, everyone – there’s a clowder of cats!”).
A cat eating a fish under a chair, a mural in an Egyptian tomb dating to the 15th century BC (Photo: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)
Not all is rosy in mondo catus, sadly. They are so adaptable, brought to all continents except Antarctica (mostly by humans in boats), that cats are among the most invasive of species. They sometimes wind up in places free of natural predators, and their proliferation is fed by eating billions of birds, mammals, and reptiles, even causing an occasional extinction. (Then again, who are we Homo sapiens to pass judgment on other “invasive” species?)
Yet, undeterred by dark sides, people around the world are crazy about their cats. We will go to great lengths to make them happy. See, for example, this Kickstarter Shru Cat Companion crowdfunding campaign: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1046165765/egg-the-intelligent-cat-companion (scroll down, watch the video, and try to contain your excitement).
The cat-toy inventor asked for a $15,000 investment, but cat lovers showed their love by sending Shru $170,779 for an exotic cat toy that does . . . well, I’ll let you figure that one out. In the meanwhile thousands of non-profits run crowdfunders to conduct activities like feeding children and turning deserts green again, among many other urgent things – and their average take is only $9,237. Such oddly-placed power of cat fervor is depressingly impressive (though it’s not the cats’ fault).
Cats have more vertebrae than most mammals, and their intervertebral discs are elastic and springy. So cats can contort into an amazing variety of liquid-esque positions. And even more importantly, those spinal discs alternately expand and compress as the animal runs, which conserves energy and provides extra propulsion for speeds of up to 30 miles per hour (or 48 km/h).
Although cat behavioral and psychological scientists are a few years behind their canine counterparts, it is lately becoming scientifically apparent how intelligent and emotionally responsive cats are (of course, cat owners have known this forever). They just show it differently from dogs or other animals:
Yes! Cats do love their humans, even if sometimes they have a funny way of showing it. In fact, they form strong attachments to their owners and display their emotions very similar to humans.
Just like people, cats can show their love through understanding and concern for others. In some instances, they have been known to risk their lives for their owners, protecting them from dangers like poisonous snakes or other hazards. Cats can also detect when their owner is upset and will often console them or, in some cases, even lick away their tears! Some cases exist where an owner left or passed away, and the cat exhibited signs of distress like sitting and meowing at the owner’s bedroom door, going into hiding, even refusing to eat. But perhaps some of the most incredible evidence that cats do get attached to their owners is in the cases where cats have traveled hundreds upon hundreds of miles to places they’ve never been in order to find their person.
Finally, there’s purring, a sound that science still can’t quite figure out. It turns out that cats purr for all kinds of reasons other than that they’re happy to be on our laps. This video tells the story:
Intriguing cat facts and tales could go on forever, but for now let’s travel onward together on the road to purr-fect purr-ful bliss,
Adam
P.S. If you have access to Netflix, there’s a fascinating video entitled “Inside the Mind of a Cat.” You can train cats to do all kinds of amazing tricks when you know how. Note that they’re training you as much as you’re training them!
Adam Sacks is a Co-Founder and former Executive Director of Biodiversity for a Livable Climate (Bio4Climate). He has had careers in education, holistic medicine, computer technology, politics, and advocacy. A climate activist for the past 25 years, he has been studying and writing about Holistic Management since 2007. His primary goal is the regeneration of biodiversity and a livable planet.
While the term “pigeon” actually refers to over 300 species of bird of the family Columbidae, the animal is generally characterized by its plump body, head-bobbing strut, and gentle disposition. That, and the fact that they seem to be everywhere. Pigeons have adapted to the majority of habitats on earth, with the most impressive being the urban environment.
Rock pigeons, also known as city pigeons or common pigeons, were first introduced to North America in the 1600s, from Europe. Since then, they have come to inhabit nearly every city across the Americas.
Historical records in Mesopotamia and ancient Egypt suggest that pigeons were first domesticated around 5,000 years ago, making it nearly impossible to discern their original, wild range. Today, wild pigeons make homes of rocky cliffs or in caves, while their feral cousins nest on building ledges.
With some of the most powerful flight muscles in the animal kingdom, pigeons are impressive fliers with the ability to take off almost vertically and avoid any in-flight obstacle. This enables them to dwell in even the busiest urban environments.
Pigeons are monogamous, mating for life, and typically raise 1 to 2 chicks at a time. Their mating season is May through August in the Northern hemisphere, and co-parenting is key to the nestlings’ success. Dad usually takes the day shift while Mom takes the night watch, alternating incubation duties so the other can hunt for food or hit the McDonald’s drive thru.
In the first four or five days after hatching, the chicks are fed “pigeon milk,” a unique secretion of a portion of the parents’ digestive system called the “crop.” This milky liquid is rich in nutrients and closely resembles that of mammals’ milk. Crop milk production is a hormonal response that begins a few days before the eggs hatch. When the chicks are around 10 days old, the milk-producing cells return to their normal dormancy and hatchlings can ease into a normal pigeon diet. (This process isn’t unique to pigeons; flamingoes and some species of penguin also produce a milk-like substance for their hatchlings.) Four to six weeks later, pigeon chicks are semi-independent, freeing the mated pair to start another brood. A couple of common pigeons can raise up to 12 chicks (six pairs of eggs) in a single mating season.
Due to both natural selection and human breeding, there are now over 300 species of pigeon cooing across the globe. They are all descendents of the humble rock pigeon.
Charles Darwin, a pigeon breeder, marveled at the beauty of evolution at work in the range of appearance and genetic expression in pigeons, calling it an analogy of what happens in nature. Many species of wild pigeon have developed flamboyant colors and crests that rival that of anyone’s favorite bird. Check out the photos below for some beautiful displays!
Doves are biologically identical to common pigeons (Image by StockSnap on Pixabay)
Pigeons are more than just looks, though. They’ve managed to take on a variety of human tasks with ease, often outperforming their human and technological counterparts. Pigeons have been carrying mail for centuries, back to ancient Roman times, and can deliver mail at speeds of up to 90 miles per hour (their average flight speed being 50-60 mph). They were even employed as military spies, with 95% of pigeons completing their missions and returning photographs of enemy operations to their side in WWI. The key to their impressive performance is their ability to tap into earth’s magnetic field.
They can also read the position of the sun, and have a keen sense of sight and smell. Their acute eyesight also makes them, unexpectedly, great mammographers. Pigeons can diagnose breast cancer in human patients with an accuracy on par with human radiologists reviewing the same cases.
So maybe the next time you hear someone refer to pigeons as “sky rats,” take a moment to share about some of the brilliance behind those red eyes.
Humbly, Ryan
Ryan Pagois is a climate advocate and systems thinker serving as an Associate Director at Built Environment Plus, helping to drive sustainable building solutions in MA. He is passionate about urban ecology, carbon balance, and rewilding cities. He is excited to pursue a Masters of Ecological Design at the Conway School starting this fall, to explore how low-impact urban development can be our greatest climate solution and community resilience tool. He grew up in Minnesota and studied environmental policy and international relations at Boston University.
Crows, members of the Corvus genus, stand out as some of the most intelligent and adaptable birds on the planet. These corvids include over 40 species, such as the American crow, hooded crow, and fish crow, and they inhabit diverse habitats ranging from dense forests to urban landscapes.
Known for their resourcefulness and problem-solving skills, crows have captivated scientists and observers alike with their remarkable behaviors. Crows continue to push the boundaries of how we understand animal intelligence, with recent studies on their tool use, awareness, and relationship to complex concepts gaining them well-deserved recognition and a place in the conservation conversation.
Crows are a fairly common sight in many parts of the world, with recognizable shiny black feathers and a familiar ‘caw.’ They are ground foragers with an incredibly diverse diet, ranging from insects and fruits to small animals and human food scraps. They tend to be associated with scavenging but are true omnivores, and can benefit soils and ecosystems by helping keep insect populations from surging out of balance. In urban settings, they are involved in flock feeding on human food scraps and garbage, and this adaptability to human environments means certain (though not all) species of crow maintain strong population numbers in the face of decreased access to natural habitat.
Communication and Complexity
While the crow ‘caw’ may seem like a simple call recognizable to many people, crow vocalization turns out to be quite differentiated. It has been discovered that among crows, groups form ‘dialects’ based on region. They also possess remarkable vocal mimicry skills, allowing them to imitate the sounds of other birds, animals, and even human speech. All of this allows the crow to engage in communication, social bonding, and strategic goals of deception and resource acquisition.
These crafty corvids possess a level of intelligence comparable to great apes and human children, allowing them to solve complex problems and even make and use tools. For instance, the New Caledonian crow, widely regarded as the most intelligent species among the corvid family, creates hooks and skewers from twigs to extract insects from crevices, showcasing their ingenuity. Researchers have studied crows’ usage of tools and observed that these birds will not only use pre-made tools or create simple combinations of tools in pursuit of their goal, but create multi-part composite tools, a behavior observed in only a few primates.
Famously, Aesop’s fables summarized long ago, “A thirsty crow wanted water from a pitcher, so he filled it with pebbles to raise the water level to drink.” Though the story is thousands of years old, these behaviors are still being studied and producing new insight today.
Some of the most fascinating recent inquiries into crow intelligence have probed crows’ sense of self-awareness, long-term gratification, playfulness, and their understanding of complex concepts. As a math lover, one of my favorites among these is a unique phenomenon – conceptualization of ‘zero’. While many animals are able to perform basic counting, zero is generally a trickier beast, one that was absent from many ancient human civilizations’ numerical systems. However, crows are among the very few animals that grasp this number.
Additionally, crows exhibit impressive memory skills and can recognize individual human faces, reacting differently to perceived threats than to harmless humans. They are even known for ‘holding grudges,’ or conversely, remembering favorable relationships with people for years at a time. The ability to remember and share information within families and flocks may provide them with a significant evolutionary advantage in protecting themselves from harm.
Birds of a Feather Flock Together
In addition to their intelligence and adaptability, crows exhibit fascinating social behaviors. They often engage in cooperative mobbing to fend off predators, perform elaborate aerial displays to attract mates, and maintain strong family bonds by living in cooperative family groups. While adult crows primarily socialize just with their monogamous mate (with whom they pair for life), young crows stay with their parents for the first two years of life, and juvenile crows live in highly social ‘juvenile gangs.’ One theory into crow intelligence suggests that their ingenuity is due to the relatively long period of time young crows spend with their parents and the learning this enables.
Some crows, like American Crows, are also known to flock in large groups in winter months, both foraging for food and roosting together. These roosts can range from a few hundred to up to two million crows, with some roosts forming in the same general area for well over 100 years. Moreover, crows hold “funerals” for deceased members of their community, demonstrating a level of social complexity often overlooked among animals.
Crows will even form bonds with other animals. Crows in the wild have been observed playing with young wolves, and forming mutual attachments with these other social and intelligent creatures. Of course, there are many stories of the relationships humans have forged with individual crows, forming patterns of exchanging food for gifts or receiving trinkets after showing an injured bird care. One charming crow, Tuck, who has spent his life in a bird sanctuary in Tennessee, shares a moving friendship with his primary human caretaker, and has even become a conservation ambassador:
While many human cultures have depicted crows with respect for their ingenuity, recent trends have given crows a bad rap, primarily for the disturbance they cause to crops (hence the need for ‘scarecrows’). Despite their reputation as pests, though, crows play a crucial role in ecosystems as efficient garden helpers and natural pest controllers. They feast on insect pests like caterpillars and beetles, disperse seeds, and maintain a healthy balance in the garden ecosystem. Some crow species face significant challenges to their survival, such as habitat loss, disease, and predation, and crucial conservation efforts are underway to protect endangered species like the Hawaiian Crow through habitat restoration and captive breeding programs.
Crows have been both feared and revered by humans throughout history, often associated with death, darkness, and supernatural powers. The term “murder of crows” reflects their association with death and darkness in folklore, although alternative names like “horde” or “parliament” better capture their intelligent and social nature without perpetuating negative connotations. And many cultures and people have great respect for the clever crow, with whom we have coexisted for thousands of years. Despite their complex relationship with humans, crows continue to fascinate and inspire awe, challenging our limiting notions of animal behavior.
For a deeper dive into crows and the insights they share on animal intelligence, check out this fascinating video and the sources below:
May we continue to learn from our animal kin,
Maya
Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. Having grown up in New York City and lived in cities all her life, Maya is interested in creating more natural infrastructure, biodiversity, and access to nature and ecological connection in urban areas.
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