Corvus: the Definitive Collection

To be more precise, I should've called this blog "Pretty Decent Photos of Ravens and Crows I've Taken so Far in the Rocky Mountains and throughout Japan." But the latter lacks a certain literary quality as well as an inflated sense of self-importance so typical of the blogosphere. Peer pressure!

I've always considered crows and ravens to be quite mysterious. Of course, mythic systems from around the world are filled with references to these creatures: from the Scandinavian Huginn and Muninn to the Japanese Yatagarasu, not to mention Russian fairy tales about Voron Voronovich (that's Raven Ravenson to you!), on which I grew up. But to me, this is also about the uncomfortable tension between their noble, majestic appearance and their somewhat morbid, scavenging function, which I occasionally get to observe whenever a local deer turns into roadkill.  

Every time I accidentally get too close with my camera, little robins flutter their wings and fly off, whereas mallards simply walk away, awkwardly swaying from side to side. Crows, however, don't leave: unfazed by my presence, they slowly examine me. In fact, sometimes I can't help but feel that they're reluctantly humoring me with an iota of their condescending attention because I'm a nosy avian paparazzi.  

How can you not take these birds seriously?