The annual magpie meet, almost a sort of 'lek' in itself, takes place on the city's pedestals: the aerials and the chimneys, the satellite dishes and the treetops. This morning, some 9 magpies (it could've been 10), ventured forth onto the aerials and rooftop opposite my kitchen window. The crows came in too (there's a family of four or five that lives just round the corner) to offer some counsel for the forthcoming spring. It's difficult to tell what exactly is going on (in spite of my corvid brain), but I get the feeling that it is territorial, and there is some kind of demarcation of space for the upcoming season of mating, nesting and the rest. There is never any physical contact between the crows and magpies in spite of their vociferous to-ing and fro-ing, but the energy in this open-air council meeting is unmistakeable. Almost as quickly as it began, five minutes later (why can't all meetings be like this?), they disperse, crows first, then soon after, the magpies, fluttering away, presumably (though I have learned not to presume too much with these creatures) to implement the minutes.
'Magpie Telegraph'
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