Too many times I’ve written about declining populations of certain wildlife species. This time I’m writing about some birds that are “holding their own” and one that seems to be thriving in our dwindling natural areas, the ravens, and not those in Baltimore.

I’ve mentioned before I helped with the hawk counts at Bake Oven Knob beginning in 1975. A few years later, during a November flight of red-tailed hawks another spotter spied a raven in the group. Sure enough, it flew a bit differently than a crow and then, as if on cue, called out its familiar “cronk,” not a “caw” like a crow. That was my first sighting. I’ve seen hundreds since.

Today I know of three places where they have nested: at Beltzville Dam; at a quarry near Ashfield; and one in Mahoning Valley. While stump sitting in October, November and December I hear or see at least one every day. Field guides refer to their favored habitats as large forested tracks, but I now see them at dumpsters near some popular Lehighton eateries. Just last week I watched one circle and then land in the parking lot at a McDonald’s in Schnecksville. They are successful scavengers. If they find a deer carcass or a road killed animal, they might feed there for days.

Here is how ravens differ from common crows. First, they seldom are seen in flocks like crows. I generally see or hear a single raven and occasionally a pair (assuming they are mates). In flight, they do much more soaring. I’d like to describe them as birds that wanted to be hawks. They loop, circle, soar and then fly again. Their bills are much bigger than a crow’s and the tail larger and wedge shaped. They are 24 inches in size compared to the common crow at about 17 inches.

However, unless together, size is not a good identifier. I suggest you find a website or use your Sibley app and listen to their call, and I bet you’ve heard them before. I’d be disappointed when I sit in a quiet November woods and wouldn’t hear one. They are now a bird I expect to see or hear, yeah.

Common crows are just that, common. They could be at your cat food dish on your back porch, scavenging by the hundreds in a recently harvested soybean field, or flying near a road kill or landfill. The crows have that distinctive caw, caw, caw song. They are not a species of concern and have adapted to forest life or nesting in spruce trees on the edges of housing developments. They too are scavengers but are notorious nest raiders, often stealing eggs and nestlings from smaller passerine birds. You may have witnessed red-winged blackbirds, mockingbirds, blue jays or robins mobbing them to chase them away.

About three years ago on a warm spring day a crow flew across an intersection in front of my vehicle and my two grandsons and I witnessed a screeching blue jay chasing the crow just above the car in front of us with a young blue jay firmly clamped in its beak. The jay’s frantic efforts were fruitless.

The third large corvid species is the fish crow, which is now regularly seen in this area. At one time the only place I saw them was at Assateague State Park in Maryland, where they regularly patrolled the island’s beaches and the campgrounds, also scavenging what they could find there. They are the smallest of the three at 15 inches.

This fall a flock of five flew across the Blue Mountain while I sat looking for raptors. Again, I recommend finding a website or your Sibley app to hear their very nasal call compared to the crow. So, get out there and look, and in this instance, listen for these now three more common corvid species.

Test Your Outdoor Knowledge: I bumped into old friend Tom Litchauer last week, who asked me this question, which I will now pass on to you: Do skunks hibernate?

Last Week’s Trivia Answer: It is a rare, but occasionally a female white-tailed deer can grow a rather stunted set of antlers.

Email Barry Reed at breed71@gmail.com