Crow Language and Communication

The other day I was on the deck, chatting with one of my crows. Thoreau is the chatterbox in the family. After the usual, “How’s your day goin’? Any h-a-w-k trouble today? Yes, I always spell it out. The word’s less volatile that way.

After we chatted for a while, Poe flew in. As lead crow—and let’s be honest, a total diva—Poe would not be upstaged by Thoreau. So, Poe flew even closer and whispered to me. Of course, that drew me in. Poe’s never whispered to me before. I knew crow language included low-talking to one another. It means “this a private conversation. Do you mind?” As much as it pains me to admit, they’ve kicked me out of more than one conversation.

On this day, Poe was low-talking to me! The vocalization is such a soft whisper, it’s barely audible. Poe wanted me to pay attention. For several minutes, Poe whispered something, which sounded a lot like our whispers do, then waited for me to respond.

“Say that one more time, please.”

Whisper, whisper, whisper.

“I wasn’t ready. Okay. Now tell me.”

Whisper, whisper, whisper.

“Love that.” I swooned. “Not sure what you’re tryin’ to tell me, but I’m beginning to get the gist. Run it by me one more time, please.”

Whisper, whisper, whisper.

Turns out, the low-talking was a new-to-me love language. Poe also rattles and coos at me, two of my favorite ways to hear, “I love you.”

The whispering led me to dig deeper into crow language and communication.

As a highly social species, crows use a wide range of vocalizations—caws, rattles, clicks, patterns, and coos—to stay in constant contact with one another. They’re superb mimics and can copy a vast repertoire of sounds.

Context is everything when deciphering crow language. Most crow communication deals with the timing of notes, the pauses in between, and how quickly they sound the vocalizations.

According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, crows may be more complex communicators than other birds. As talented mimics, crows can learn and copy more than 100 different sounds, including human speech, calls of other birds and animals, and even mechanical noises such as vehicles and alarms.

Crows use several distinct calls to communicate between family members, mated pairs, and other crows from the same group. Avian experts analyzed the probable meanings behind each one to better understand crow language.

Caws in Crow Language

A “caw” can mean different things, depending on how it’s used, the energy put into the timbre, the number and speed of repetitions.

Loud singular caws alert family members to a food source, especially if it’s a place where a “good” human habitually leaves food out.

Contact calls are a series of unhurried, level caws, followed by a pause for the receiving party to respond. If a crow flies into unfamiliar territory, s/he tosses out a contact call to see if other crows inhabit the area. This type of caw is not antagonistic, more of a hello type of call that says, “Hey, does anyone live here?”

The greeting caw isn’t meant to sound intimidating, nor will it increase in intensity. Most of the time, a neighborhood crow will respond in kind. If the crows have crowlettes in the nest, the return caws change to harsh, urgent, and defensive. That type of caw is a warning that says, “Stay back, or the sentinels will escort you out of the area. If you still refuse to leave, we’ll wage war.”

A good general rule of thumb is:

• One caw = “Hi.”
• Three caws = Displeasure or “Danger!”
• Four or more caws = Territorial. “This is my turf. Leave now.”

Ca-caw, Caw, Caw

This is a warning call. Mostly, it’s used to say, “Heads up, there’s a hawk.” The pitch changes slightly as the hawk nears. “It’s getting closer. Stay alert.” Finally, the call changes into a different vocalization if they decide to hide rather than fight.

I’ve witnessed all three scenarios.

Lately, we’ve had a six pack of ginormous sharp-shinned hawks terrorizing the area. Six massive birds are a lot to take on. The power-shift changes if one hangs around after the others leave. Then Poe will give the order to attack—a harsh, deep, alarming series of caws—and the entire family leaps into the sky. Some fly below the hawk, others fly above, with one or two on each side. Once everybody is in position, Poe stomps on the same wing multiple times to rock the hawk. As soon as the hawk loses balance, the crows underneath lift the opposite wing. This move results in the hawk tail-spinning into a barrel roll. Ultimately, the hawk spirals down to their death. It’s violent but effective.

Now, for the hawk lovers out there, think about this encounter from a crow’s perspective.

The hawk ventured into the area for one reason—to hunt. Hunting means predating on eggs, chicks, squirrels, chipmunks, and other wildlife. Would you kill to protect your family? Sure, squirrels and chippies and other wildlife aren’t part of a crow’s family, but these incredible corvids also protect their neighbors. Think of crows as the neighborhood watch crew. Every animal, furred or feathered, pays attention to crow language. Those warning calls alert them to danger. If they hide quick enough, they’ll live to fight another day.

Rattles, Coos, and Clicks in Crow Language

Mated pairs of crows rattle and coo to one another. The meaning is obvious. “I love you.” The courtship and/or renewal of their bond includes gentle cooing, nuzzling noises, and singing softly. On many occasions, I’ve witnessed how special and loving the courtship/renewal is. Brings me to tears every time… till Poe catches me eavesdropping like a voyeur. I can’t help it! It’s just so beautiful. Did I mention they kiss? Yeah, it’s heart-melting for sure.

Juvenile crows gain their parents’ attention through clicking sounds. No one really knows the precise meaning, but I’m sure it’s something like, “Mumma, can I please have another peanut? Allan got five and I only had four.” Or, “Dadda, Shakespeare said if she has to babysit again today, she’s throwing me outta the nest.”

Crows & Human Language

I read about a disgusting ritual to split a captive crow’s tongue. To anyone who thinks this is a good idea, please show yourself out. You’re not welcome here. Maiming any animal for amusement is wrong on so many levels. So. Many. Levels. Trying to keep my inner Mayhem in check while I explain. Misguided people believe if they split a crow’s tongue, it’ll be easier to teach them how to speak human.

Here’s the thing…

Crows already possess the ability to parrot humans. Not as clearly as, say, African Grays, but slicing their tongue down the middle won’t help. Crow language originates in their throats, an organ called the syrinx. The tongue does not play any role in vocalizations. None. So, stop this disgraceful practice before I notify Mr. Mayhem, who’ll gladly explain why those actions disrespect the Natural World. More simply put, a tongue-splitter won’t survive that chat. 😉

But I digress.

I mentioned Thoreau at the beginning of this post. Through numerous conversations, I taught him to say, “Wow.” I think he’s puzzled out the meaning, too. In the morning, when I fill Poe’s flat-topped rock with leftovers, peanuts, kibble, etc., Thoreau will say, “Wow” as soon as he catches a glimpse of breakfast. Hilarious! I read about another woman who taught one of “her” crows to say, “Help me!” so clearly that a neighbor once called the police. When they arrived, they questioned the crow lover. She had to escort them into the yard to prove she wasn’t in danger. Too funny.

Do you speak crow language? Tell me about your black-feathered friends.

If you love crows, you’ll also love my Mayhem Series. Poe’s a scene-stealer. LOL

Last week to preorder Restless Mayhem for 99c!

If you’re worried about feeling lost—this is Mayhem Series #6—fear not. Quite a few new members of my ARC team started with Restless Mayhem, and each one said it worked well as a standalone. 

*Please note: The 99c sale is only available on Amazon.

Restless Mayhem releases in ebook and paperback on April 26, 2023. Can’t wait!