Corvids in the park

Don't you just love a jaunty walk in the park?

And chucking food in the air to catch it?

That fledgling sized suet pellet hardly seems worth the effort.

I mentioned a few weeks back the idea that "weeds" are like the emergency services, coming in as pioneers to recolonise space. We worry that they "take over", like nettles in a woodland where the woodland flowers can't compete. But I've been thinking that they are the rare species who like the conditions we have created. We have made a world that favours nettles over bluebells and the like. So what do we do next?

We can manage the space, to make it less favourable for nettles and more so for bluebells, but I'm more and more inclined to think that this is so clumsy as to be counterproductive. Am I talking, then, of complete rewilding - in terms of leaving be utterly, with no intervention? That too is difficult because I believe that ecosystems don't just need time (much more than we are willing to give them) but space (much more than we are willing to give them) and open borders so that travellers can get in and emigres get out. That we don't allow that for humans makes it even less likely we will for the more-than-human.

Of course, wildlife corridors fulfill a kind of role as a pilgrimage route. If you're pretty small and like hedges.

I don't know what I am suggesting. Part of the impetus for this post came from a tree. The lovely ash I wrote a poem about two years ago.

The other prompt was the crows.

They too are emergency services. Clearing up waste and roadkill. They threaten songbirds, though... but we have made a world that favours crows. Intelligent generalists who are willing to explore and adapt.

Today, May 28th, I saw a crow feeding a fledgling - not in the park but on the roof of a house just down the road. I hope to see some in the park... at some stage.