A busy Sunday. On my way to the car early in the morning, ravens low over LaBrea, and maybe a crow policing them, but one turned down Hawthorne, the other landed on a streetlight above me. “Yo!” I said to it once or twice, and it hopped a nervous hop, and flew on to the next streetlight. And me with no camera, of course. It observed me a bit from the second streetlight, and then continued on towards Sunset Blvd.
My hiking date this morning took me to Burbank and the Verdugo mountains. We climbed up from the library to about 1800 feet or so, although the trails aren’t marked on the topos. Looking out across Burbank, you can see the moutains of Griffith Park like a great island in an urban sea. Hopefully there will soon be some pics here soon to illustrate.
Just as I was remarking to my hiking partner about the paucity of ravens in the Verdugos, a pair of soarcling black birds appeared above us, quorking away. We had already seen a large buck deer, so I guess the favorite raven food is somewhat readily available. Later, another (or who knows, the same) pair flew above Glen Oaks Blvd to salute my departure and return to Hollywood.
Finally, my visit to Loyola Marymount University this afternoon allowed me to spot ravens high overhead, as they watched crows police a small hawk below them. The higher raven pulled the tightest soarcle I’ve ever seen. I guess it’s a new-found aesthetic attraction - birds are always interesting, but I’ve never felt particularly overwhelmed with the talents or mannerisms of a particular species until beginning to watch ravens. Like those little nervous hops. There’s something endearing about those, too. Maybe the ravens scented the mayhem on the footy pitch:
UCLA 4, LMU 0. Sigh.