Clack-bill the Raven

I wish I could get a picture of him with my phone's camera...but he just won't allow it!

I call him Clack-bill (probably couldn't pronounce his raven-name anyhow), because that seems to be his morning greeting for me as I step out behind the store for my morning practices...two sharp snaps of his bill...Clack-clack. He's a big, old, fellow...probably weighing a good 15 pounds at least, about a 4 to 4.5ft wingspan, and at least 2ft tall while walking. Although you can tell he's the Alpha in the area, he's rather relaxed about it until one of the younger males gets cocky, then, look out! Loud? Oh yes! He'll croak and caw loud enough to drown out a full freight train only two blocks away! When he takes to the air from his favorite utility pole, you plainly hear (and sometimes feel) the whispery whoof-whoof of his wings lifting that immense glossy blue-jet body aloft.

He seems to get a kick out of my imitating his guttural clicks, often cawing wildly if I "mispronounce" a series, as if I've just made a raven-language fauxpaux and he's laughing his feathery butt off. Other times he'll repeat a certain series until I get it right, then switch to another series. Kind of understanding this old bird a bit, I wouldn't doubt it that he's teaching me every insult there is in Raven, I'll try them on some other raven one day, and my car will become a target for "bombing runs"...it would be just this character's speed, I think.

Anyhow, he's a confort in the mornings. Rain, shine, snow, he's around. Sometimes just to say hello, other times to chat or watch me do my daily practices.