The Great Crow Roost

None of the guidebooks to Portland direct us to go, just at dawn while it is still dark, to NE 9th Ave between the streets of Hancock and Schuyler. This is a shame, because an astonishing scene takes place here each morning, or at least in winter and spring.

There is a great roost of crows in the trees thereabouts—crows in the hundreds, perhaps at times in the thousands. They blacken every tree in that one block area, and at the time I pass by there, around 6am, they are making a terrible din, a vast chorus of Caw.

Even if I drive through there in my car I will begin to hear them a block away—with the motor running and all the windows rolled up. A little research tells me that crows have been doing roosting like this for thousand of years.

So they all gather together to spend the night, coming from who knows how far away, and then return to their preferred territory in the morning—although not before the most raucous socializing.

When I pass by again in the afternoon, I often do not see a single crow. This would be a good time for a real estate agent who might have a property in the area to bring through clients—hoping they don’t notice the crow-splattered sidewalks and car windows.