Much like the Game of Thrones, I have Crows manning my Wall!
The chickens and ducks are still on lock down in the run and I am going to try my best to keep them safely tucked away until we can manage to finish fencing in the property completely. The fox's free lunches are officially over, I hope.
This morning as I was sitting on the goat lift I noticed the crows over head. It looks like we have some juveniles up there being directed by an adult on the do's and don'ts here. We do eat the chicken food, we do not eat chicken food until the area is deemed safe.
This morning as I was sitting on the goat lift I noticed the crows over head. It looks like we have some juveniles up there being directed by an adult on the do's and don'ts here. We do eat the chicken food, we do not eat chicken food until the area is deemed safe.
I honestly have such high regard for the crows. I learned very early on in homesteading that crows can either be friend or foe.
My father in law, rest his soul, was an interesting man. He was a farmer through and through. I don't think he ever knew much what to do with me, because I am a yuppy farmer, not of necessity but of an altruistic desire. I can say, his love for me afforded me a lot of leeway. My dog was allowed in the house as much as it must have tortured his good sense. Dogs in my father in laws mind did not belong in a house. My little beagle Barney would travel in behind me and I could see my father in law stiffen and yet at the very same time act like he was wearing an itchy sweater. To his credit he wouldn't say a word in protest.
Dogs were not pets or companions in his eyes, they protected his animals. That was their purpose. A female dog did not have a purpose at all, as it would only reproduce
more dogs and further mouths to feed. It was not my way, but I understood his way.
more dogs and further mouths to feed. It was not my way, but I understood his way.
My father in laws goats and cows were not loved pets either, surely never doted upon. They were a commodity and he at one point in time had hundreds of them.
They supplied him with milk and offspring to sell.
When I entered my in laws lives they were later on in years and had come upon harder times. The town had taken up his land and grazing rights and sold them to the wealthy. The town, I was told was still in the midst of a bitter battle trying to reclaim the land the government had scooped up from under them.
My father in law had only a few acres left that surrounded his house; the cows, goats and his livelihood a thing of the past. My mother in law had a few chickens for personal use and she promptly taught me to never name your food. Of course all my animals have names. What I could see with my Father in law was that there was a definite sadness about this turn in his life. My mother in law, the very same circumstances brought her happiness and relief as my father in law was now home instead of away on the land where the animals grazed.
My husband and I brought my father in law a rototiller. I remember that day so clearly, three generation my Father In Law, Don Melchor, my husband and our children out in a field disturbing the soil of lost aspirations, in an attempt to plant new seeds of hope. We joked about the three Melchor's tilling the fields, as my youngest son, at the time, was the third.
They supplied him with milk and offspring to sell.
When I entered my in laws lives they were later on in years and had come upon harder times. The town had taken up his land and grazing rights and sold them to the wealthy. The town, I was told was still in the midst of a bitter battle trying to reclaim the land the government had scooped up from under them.
My father in law had only a few acres left that surrounded his house; the cows, goats and his livelihood a thing of the past. My mother in law had a few chickens for personal use and she promptly taught me to never name your food. Of course all my animals have names. What I could see with my Father in law was that there was a definite sadness about this turn in his life. My mother in law, the very same circumstances brought her happiness and relief as my father in law was now home instead of away on the land where the animals grazed.
My husband and I brought my father in law a rototiller. I remember that day so clearly, three generation my Father In Law, Don Melchor, my husband and our children out in a field disturbing the soil of lost aspirations, in an attempt to plant new seeds of hope. We joked about the three Melchor's tilling the fields, as my youngest son, at the time, was the third.
I could see a change in my father in laws stature. He stood just that much taller. His shoulders held just a bit squarer, hand firm on his hip and a sense of purpose in his eyes.
A rototiller was out of place at my father in laws and even in the town itself. My father in law was not the only one who had his land swindled out from under him, but a whole town full of people. The whole town had come upon hard times. So this caused a stir. It grabbed a lot of attention. People would come around wanting to see what Don Melchor was doing out in his fields. The answer, why Don Melchor is planting calabaza (squash) !
Such a simple thing, planting squash, but it was not simple. It was not small. This was huge!
We would return week after week to visit my in laws where we would stay a week or two at a time. The squash grew huge, I mean I truly had never seen such impressive squash. It spread across the field far and wide just covering the land. My Father In Laws fields were full and lush. This was a garden! This was pride, this called out to the rains!
I remember many a nights walking barefoot through Don Melchor's garden in the moonlight, to everyone's dismay, because there were snakes and even scorpions in the garden. I was oblivious to such things and luckily I was never bitten. They say ignorance is bliss and blissful I was in those lush rows of squash.
One week we arrived at my in laws and as we pulled in I looked up and there hung lifeless from a tree a huge sleek dead black crow just staring down at me.
I just couldn't believe my eyes. I wasn't necessarily surprised, not much surprised me about my father in law, but it still was a startling sight. I exited the car and asked my Father In Law "Pa, que es eso"? What is this? He explained to us matter of factly that the crows were coming after his squash. So he quite simply picked one off and hung it as a warning to the others.
It made perfect sense to him. Normally my father in law would hide such feats from me, but with our unannounced visit coupled with the need to protect his precious squash, the crow remained.
Day in and day out I would sit in the back. I could hear the chatter of the crows, from what I could guess plotting and planning the demise of Don Melchor. Honestly I am telling you, they had it in for him. I would hear the thwack of the back screen door and then the incessant alarmed chatter of the crows and I knew without even looking that my father in law stood behind me.
I would tell him often "Pa, Quieren Matarte!" The want to kill you. He would just laugh. I would tell my children to stay away from their grandfather's disgrace. You don't want the crows to associate it with you.
One day he finally cut down the crow and disposed of it. I am not sure if he did it because of my chatter or that of the crows, he never would tell. I suspect it was more because it was finally time to harvest.
As the squash grew so big you could barely carry them, Don Melchor began to harvest his pride. As his stockpile of calabaza grew my mother in law became clearly distraught. My mother in law Carmen ran a little store out of her home where she sold old fashioned glass Coca colas, fritos and candies to the locals. She saw the squash as a hot commodity to fill her cash drawer with and my father in law had taken to giving them away to anyone who walked by the house.
He once was this big farmer, so I don't think he ever got accustomed to worrying about what was on the table for dinner at night. My husband and I cared for the little bills they had, but my mother in law wanted to have her own and I can understand that. Don Melchor had his squash, but for Carmen, her little store, that was her pride.
My father in law the generous guy, my mother in law the sour puss. Isn't that always the way in a couple? Good guy, bad guy. The one who everyone loves, who if given their way would have them out on the streets without a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out, if it wasn't for the bad guy running around behind them holding it together.
I recall one day my father in law asking me to hold out my hand and when I did he slid a beautiful ruby ring on it. Here they were with very little means and I came to know that my father in law had spent ten years making payments on a ring he had made just for me. I cherish that ring, it reminds me on days I forget that someone thought that much of me, at the same time I appreciate my mother in laws frustration because her son is just like his father.
The ring has two eagles on each side of the centered ruby, which looks more to me like a crow, which reminds me every time of the thwack of my in laws screen door and a chatter of the murder and I laugh at the memories and sometimes I cry for their loss and the longing for another time.
On our little homestead when my back door goes thwack there is a very different chatter from the crows. It is more excitement of what is to come. The crows, to me are friend, no foe. They raise their young here on my land, they probably view it more as their land than mine.
I am just the lady who feeds them and their charges. They eat with my chickens in front of the run every day. In exchange they watch over my flock, chasing off crows and sounding an alarm when that fox slinks around. Unfortunately with the fox all they can do is call alarm.
I think they view the chickens, which could very well serve as food, as theirs to protect and frankly they are well fed and full bellies don't eat fuzzy little babies.
This is their territory and they are very territorial so no one hunts their ground without it causing a racket.
Today as I was sitting watching the crows, after a much excited chatter from tree to tree, one swooped down and landed on the goat corral door and I realized it was reminding me that with the chickens in the run, there was no food out for them. I got up right away and sifted some feed out in front of the run for them and promptly returned to my seat on the goat lift. In no time down came the adult crow and soon after it called out to two juveniles to follow. One adult remained in the trees over watching, even with me they remain quite cautious.
When it comes to crows, if you have chickens I suggest you make friends.
Feed them well and encourage them to man your wall. You can start by putting out sunflower seeds and peanuts where you want them to congregate.
It may take a bit of time to bring them to your land and other birds might first feast on your snacks, but eventually the crows will catch on to the other birds gatherings for food.
Thwack,..chatter chatter chatter!
