The "The Sport Of Pigeon Racing" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Looking back over a few stories I have written in the past about the bird known as the pigeon.  

Cages at Root's Sale where my grandfather took me every Wednesday in the summer.

One story I wrote told about my Grandfather buying me a pigeon at a local farmer's market and auction while another story told of a man who happened to be in front of me in line at the local post office a year or two ago who was mailing a crate of fancy pigeons to Dubai.  Stories can be found by typing "pigeon" in the white box at the top left of this page.  Well, I was recently reading the "Cabbage Hill of Yesteryear" Facebook page and found a story written by Jim Gerhart titled "Pigeon Racing on Old Cabbage Hill."  The story, which was just posted a few days ago, told of the breeding, raising, training and racing of homing pigeons in the area of the city of Lancaster known as Cabbage Hill which is the South-West part of town, thus "SoWe".   Jim wrote of the first organized group of homing-pigeon owners in the city of Lancaster that was established in early 1889.  It was called the Lancaster Homing Pigeon Club and was made up of nine members who owned over 200 pigeons between them.  The following year the club had a few new members who lived in the Cabbage Hill section of town.

Three years after that, a second racing club known as the Hillside Homing Pigeon Club, which was formed on Cabbage Hill, began.  If you are not familiar with pigeon racing, it is a rather unusual sport in which club members ship their pigeons in crates to cities and towns far from Lancaster.  Most of the starting points were to the south, usually in Virginia or the Carolinas.  Each pigeon wold have a metal band around a leg which was inscribed with the owner's initials and an ID#.  At a designated time the pigeons would be released and attempt to find their way home to the "SoWe" section of Lancaster.  Homing pigeons have an acute sense of smell and an uncanny ability to use the Earth's magnetic field to find their way home to where they knew they would be fed and reunited with their mates.  Lancaster had an official judge who would record the exact time each pigeon would arrive at the door to its loft.  Amazingly, most made it back.

Winners in one of the races.

The judges would then compare the times and award valuable prizes to the owners of the pigeons.  Pigeon racing was an expensive hobby and the prize money was needed to continue with the sport.  At times, some of the pigeons wouldn't make it home during a race.  Especially if it was an extreme long distance or inclement weather.  Jim reported that during a storm in 1911, only 15 of 73 pigeons made it home to Lancaster within four days of being released in Newberry, South Carolina.  Some finally returned, but many were lost.  By 1908 there were three clubs in Lancaster, each with at least ten members and many hundred pigeons.  

1918 photo of a dispatch rider with a basket of pigeons to release.

Many members were from the Cabbage Hill area.  Jim wrote that the average age of the members was about 35 and all were tradesmen with some working in the cigar industry.  The majority of them were sons of German immigrants.  During WWI the club still competed, but the number began to dwindle.  Jim suggested that the members of German heritage wanted to avoid the spotlight during the intense anti-German sentiment directed at Cabbage Hill during the war.  In 1917 the Army asked club member Charles Schill to provide an inventory of all the homing pigeons in his clubs.  Seems there was a need for their service at the European war front.  The pigeons were expected to be "doing a bit as a patriot, to help our country in this great crisis."  Then in May of 1918, General Pershing directed 3,000 homing pigeons, perhaps some from Lancaster Cabbage Hill, and 100 trained handlers to be dispatched to the European front.  They were used to deliver messages to military headquarters miles behind the battle lines.  Their success rate was said to be about 97%.  After the war, Lancaster club members continued with their racing.  However, due to complaints of unsanitary conditions in backyard lofts, the city of Lancaster banned keeping pigeons within the city limits, thus ending more than 100 years of homing-pigeon racing in the city.  Many rural clubs still exist and a large network of racing enthusiasts still compete.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "But, Yet Another Visit To Middle Creek" Story

Trail we followed to view the snow geese and Tundra swans.
Click on images to enlarge them.

It was an ordinary day.  Cool February day with tempera- tures in the low 50s when my wife said we ought to go see the Snow Geese, Tundra Swans and Canadian Geese at the Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area between Lebanon and Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  The Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area is a special tract set aside for the protection, propagation, management, preservation and controlled harvest of wildlife.  

Signs telling you to stay on the trails.

It is a 400+ acre shallow lake and 70 acres of man-made potholes, ponds and dikes which have been constructed as a marshy habitat for waterfowl.  The lands that surround the preserved area are farmed to provide pasture for waterfowl and other wildlife.  An adjacent ridge is comprised of oak and hickory woodlands.  Beautiful drive as you wind your way from major highways to the Wildlife area.  Every year over a quarter of a million people visit Middle Creek to try and make sightings of water fowl.  Middle Creek was designated a Globally Significant important Bird Area, based on hosting a large percentage of the world's population of Tundra Swans and Snow Geese.  

One of a few Bald Eagles Carol and I spotted.

Carol and I arrived about 4:00 PM and the roads around the area were packed with cars pulled off the road hoping to catch a glimpse of the wildlife.  We pulled into a nearby parking lot to try and find a spot to park so we could walk the Willow Point Trail to a picnic area to view the birds on the water.  Was our lucky day and we found a spot in the front row as someone was leaving.  As we walked the trail toward the picnic area Carol pointed up and there was our first sighting of a Bald Eagle for the day.  Shortly a second Bald Eagle arrived, giving me a few neat photos.  

The only hawk we sighted.

Off in the distance we could see a Heron standing along water's edge, but too far away to take a photo.  We arrived at the picnic area just in time to view a couple of thousand snow geese rise from the water in unison, going left, right and up, all in large synchronated dance movements.  A remarkable sight to see!  My Nikon was clicking as fast as it could.  As I looked skyward I saw a hawk surveying the entire dance.  To one side of me were close to 50 photographers with equipment far greater and more expensive than I, sitting on equally valuable trips-pods that would rotate upon command.  

Serious equipment to document the migration.

The show was just beginning.  We were told to head to see the sights in early morning or late afternoon, since the birds would be in the surrounding fields foraging for grain during the rest of the day.  A half hour after we had arrived, the water area in front of us was covered with birds.  The sound was amazing!  All birds corresponding  with one another at the same time.  It was a moment that you can only visualize if you were there.  

A few of the bird houses along the path.  Made by
my friend Hal who donates his time to the wildlife area.

Telling the difference between the snow geese and the Tundra Swan is fairly easy, since the snow geese have black wing tips.  As soon as they take flight you can see the black on the tips of the wings.  As for the swans, they tend to have a longer neck and are white all over.  The majority of the snow geese are migratory and will be leaving in a few days, while the swans are partially migratory with some remaining at Middle Creek year round.  

The only photograph I have that shows the Tundra Swans.  The
two all white birds are the swans while the others are snow geese.

After an hour of constant noise, Carol and I found our way back to the car.  Along the trail were a few wooden birdhouses for a variety of different types of birds.  Many of these birdhouses are constructed by my friend Hal who taught school with me and now volunteers making the birdhouses for the wildlife area.  My photographs will give you an idea as to what it was like to view the wonder of migrating birds.  Truly amazing and one of God's wonders.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Thousands take flight at one time. The light area at the bottom
are birds on the top of the water.

Two are out of formation.

The leader is calling out directions for landing.

This trees appears to have white flowers, but they are geese in the distance.

Some come very close to you while feeding. 

Geese in flight.

Some are more clear and close to me in this photo.

Birds in flight!  They are magnificent creatures.

The "An Alarming Loss Of Wildlife On Our Rear Deck!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Cleaning out our bird houses after another season of listening to and watching a few houses of baby birds again this year.  This year we did notice a drop in the birds that built nests and raised their young ones on our back deck.  It seems that each year we have a slight decline in how many houses are filled on our deck.  

A few of the many birdhouses we have on our rear deck.

This year we did not see any chickadees, gold finches, tufted titmice or dark-eyed juncos at all, but still had a few houses of wrens.  Also had the usual bluejays, cardinals, finches and sparrows, but seems that they are visiting our bird feeder in fewer quantities.  My wife and I have been traveling to the island of St. Martin for many years and just about every year we have fed the island's sugar birds, aka Banaquit.  

Sugar birds feeding on sugar in St. Martin.

At times they would come in large numbers, but the past two years we have seen only a few.  Could be that many were killed or left the island due to Hurricane Irma which devastated the island in September of 2017.  But, we felt we should have seen a few during the past year.  

The House Wren

So, what's going on?  Naturally, I went online to see if I could find the answer to the decline in the birds around the world and found there is a shocking decline in the numbers of birds world wide.  The decrease has been staggering with a decline of about 3 billion just in North America.  And, that's not just in rare species, but in the backyard species such as the chickadees, wrens and even the tufted titmice.  So why is there such a big drop in backyard birds.  Seems it is due to the Earth's ecosystems and their ability to support life.  

The dark-eyed Junco

The main culprit is habitat and loss of degrada- tion.  Can also be an increase in feral cats, and pet cats that are allowed to be outside.  We do have a few feral cats in our neighborhood, but now have two less since we have made them into indoor cats almost two years ago. And one more reason might be the insects the birds rely on for food.  Other reports say wind turbines and building strikes take their toll.  Not sure I believe the wind turbines do that much damage, but I can see that large buildings that are lit at night lead birds to fly into their windows.  

The Chickadee

We have a large glass door on our back deck and have had a few birds fly into it.  Our neighbor- hood has had a recent large shopping center open as well as a few large new buildings.  So, what can Carol and I, as well as you, do to bring back the birds?  First, put out a birdbath that you can heat in the winter.  Plant native trees, shrubs and flowers that provide seeds and berries favored by birds.  A few examples would be the Dogwood, crabapple, winterberry, holly and hawthorn plants.  Put out numerous bird feeders including hummingbird feeders.  Also call your Congressperson and ask them to support The Recovering America's Wildlife Act which will help with declines in fish and bird life.  It is rather depressing not to see the wildlife that we used to see on our back deck.  What will happen if the loss becomes greater?  I'm not sure, but I hope the decline can be stopped before that happens.  Do all you can to help, please!  It wasn't another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "The Hero From Sint Maarten: Part II" Story

Barbara and Anna

It was an ordinary day.  Looking at the Christmas email greeting from Barbara Cannegieter I just received from the island of Sint Maarten.  This past October my wife Carol and I visited the island and made a stop at the home of Barbara and Dee whom we got to know about five years ago.  During our visit we were greeted by a shrill voice that belonged to Anna.  Anna is a white cockatoo that had been gifted to the St. Maarten Zoo a few years ago.  Then in September of 2017 Hurricane Irma made a visit to the island and totally devastated the island as well as destroying the zoo.  Eventually Barbara was able to adopt Anna who is a wonderful greeter who constantly reminded us of her name by screaming "Anna".  Many years before the hurricane arrived in 2017, a young boy by the name of Drew Vogelsang volunteered at the Sint Marten Zoo.  At this point in my story I would like to insert a story sent to me by Barbara telling about a recent visitor she had to her home to see her as well as Anna.  The story was an email received by Barbara and was written by Rita Ennis.  Enjoy the story as I did and see just how compassionate we humans can be when the need occurs.

The email written by Rita Ennis to Barbara Cannegieter:

We are in Sint Maarten where the Vogelsang/Ennis/Evans families have spent 20+ Christmas seasons. "We" this time includes Ellie and her BFF Marina, Drew, Joanne (Bob's sister), her husband Randy and me.  We always have at least one activity while here that becomes a family legend. The first such activity this year is a visit Drew and I paid to Anna, a white cockatoo. There's a backstory here.  As I said, we've been here many times. Most years since he was 12, Drew skipped some of the beach activity and volunteered at the Sint Maarten Zoo. It was a very small, distinctive home to about 300 animals, a very low-key, easy to visit, almost shabby-but-lovely little park and kid's recreation area. Some of the animals were endangered. For such a small zoo, the collection was impressive. Some animals (peacocks, large turtles) roamed freely, giving the zoo a special accessible vibe. Each animal was named, known by many locals and greatly appreciated for its characteristics and personality.  One resident was Anna, a sweet or nasty (depending on whether she liked you or not) white cockatoo, who had been gifted to the zoo by her previous owner, a woman. Drew heard Anna liked women much better than men, but mostly didn't like people, and had bitten several visitor fingers over the years. Undaunted, Drew worked to make friends with her, and the relationship became mutual adoration. While he never entered her cage, Anna mashed her body up against her cage bars so Drew could rub her belly, under her wings and under her neck. 

Anna sitting on Drew's arm.

Anna clearly recognized Drew each year when he returned.  Bob and I visited Drew at the Zoo while he was working a few times and witnessed and photographed the love between these two. Some of you may remember photos we posted 4 and 6 years ago. Drew last saw Anna in 2014.  As most of you know, Sint Maarten was devastated by Hurricane Irma in September 2017. The Zoo was totally destroyed. Some animals escaped, some were stolen, some lost their lives to storm fright or the caiman who got loose. The animals that remained were moved to the Curacao Zoo or re-homed to zoo volunteers.  We were heartbroken about the condition of Sint Maarten and the Zoo. I tried but was unable to find out about Anna, and resigned myself to never knowing her fate.  Fast forward to last Thursday. While finalizing some vacation prep details, on a lark I googled "Sint Maarten Zoo Irma Anna" and up came a May 2018 blog post by a Sint Maarten resident, Barbara Cannegieter saying she had taken in Anna. I was thrilled to know Anna was safe and loved. Caribstorm is the blog, and I've read from it many times over the years as author Barbara commented on Sint Maarten and its weather, and occasional other topics. Though I didn't know her and had never had any exchanges through blog comments, I emailed Barbara explaining Drew's relationship to Anna and asked if he could visit Anna. Barbara replied with a gracious invitation.  Today we visited Anna, Barbara, and her husband Diederick. We had a lovely time getting acquainted, and Drew had a wonderful reunion. We can't say that Anna remembered Drew, but she liked him and recognized him as a gentle friend. She allowed him to enter her spacious cage, and climbed on his arm. It was a great visit -- meaningful to all of us. The whole thing seemed like a little miracle. And now we have new friends in Sint Maarten, friends we will surely visit again.

Carol visits with Dee and Barbara in Dee's garden.

As you can see, Barbara is a national treasure for the island of Sint Maarten.  Carol and I are so lucky to have met her a few years ago and to be able to make yearly visits with she and her husband Dee.  We look forward to our visit in 2019 and hope we can once again hear that shrill voice calling "Anna" to us as we ring the bell at the gate.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

The "A New Visitor To Our Neck Of The Woods" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Just got home from the grocery store and my wife told me to, "Come look out the back door at the bird I just took a photograph of a couple of seconds ago."  We searched our rear deck together and finally found it behind our Tiki Bar at the one end of our rear deck.  A bird that I had never seen before.  

The American Woodcock made a visit to our deck.
Click to enlarge.

I grabbed the camera and took a few more photos of it before it decided to take flight.  Before it did it was using its long beak to search between the boards of our deck for what I assume was food.  Carol began a search online to try and figure what exactly had made a visit to our house.  Within minutes she showed me a photo of the American Woodcock; a perfect match for our visitor.  It's plumage is a mix of different shades of browns, grays and black.  It's chest and sides were a variety of white, light gray and light brown colors.  It did not expose its neck, but the description online said that the nape of the neck is black, with three or four crossbars of deep buff.  The toes and feet, which are small and weak, are brownish gray to reddish brown.  The woodcock has large eyes located high in the head and their usual field of view is probably the largest of any bird, 360 degrees in the horizontal plane and 180 degrees in the vertical plane.  As I read more I realized the bird must have gotten off course since it told me that most woodcocks spend the winter in the Gulf Coast and southeastern Atlantic Coast states.  Some may remain as far north as Maryland, eastern Virginia and southern New Jersey.  So, our guest is a few hundred miles too far north in southern Pennsylvania.  The woodcock migrates at night while flying at low altitudes by itself of in small flocks.  It doesn't fly fast with the slowest flight speed ever recorded for a bird, 5 miles per hour.  The woodcock begins to shift southward before ice and snow seal off their food supply which is primarily earthworms.  Their unique bone-and-muscle arrangement lets the bird open and close the tip of its bill while sunk in the ground.  Only problem with this guy on our back porch was that there wasn't any earthworms under the boards of our deck and it's timing was off a bit since we had close to eight inches of snow a few days before.  Luckily the snow had disappeared the day after and the ground is moist so a good hunting ground for worms.  We hope the bird, which seemed to be about the size of a very small duck, will get back on course once again and find its friends in the near future.  But, while visiting our deck, he did have his photo taken and a story written about him.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Harbinger Of Death?" Story

My photograph taken from the bell-tower of
St. James Church.  Below is a wooden cross
that was carved from a diseased Elm tree.

It was an ordinary day.  Leaning from the bell tower at St. James Episcopal Church in downtown Lancaster, Pennsylvania taking a photo of the churchyard below me.  I was hoping to take a photo of the cross that had recently been carved from the remains of the huge English Elm tree that had been standing beneath me until a few months ago.  Toward the end of the 1970s Dutch Elm Disease had infested many of the elm trees around the city of Lancaster and before long had arrived at St. James.  Shortly bark beetles had spread the disease to the 100 year old, 90 foot tall elms along the exterior of the property along both Orange and Duke Streets as well as the elms in the churchyard.  I assumed it was the Dutch Elm Disease that killed the trees, but after reading a recent story in the Lancaster Newspaper, I began to wonder.  The story told of a 90-year-old Dutch Elm on the rear lawn of Wheatland, President James Buchanan's Lancaster home, and how it may have met it's recent demise.  Seems a Great Horned Owl had been spotted during daylight hours sitting in the huge tree. Wasn't long after that the tree's leaves turned yellow and died and fell to the ground, the final signal that the elm was about to die.  

One of my altered Polaroid prints done on the rear lawn
of Wheatland with the diseased elm on the left side of photo.

A few local arborists talked about the belief that American Indians have that owls, especially seen during the daytime, sitting in trees are a harbinger of death.  Seems that to most Native American tribes that owls are a symbol of death.  Hearing owls hooting is considered an unlucky omen and they are the subject of numerous "bogeyman" stories told to warn children to stay inside at night or not cry too much, otherwise the owl may carry them away.  Wow!  It then struck me that when I was in the church steeple taking my photograph, during the middle of the day, I spotted a large horned owl sitting nearby me in the dark belfry.  We scared each other until it finally took flight and landed in a nearby tree.  

The scary Great Horned Owl.

Perhaps the owl had been roosting in the elm trees around the city and churchyard, thus causing their deaths.  My guess is that it was the Dutch Elm Disease that had struck them, as well as the recent tree at Wheatland, but owls can be scary and I can see why someone would believe they are associated with death.  But, as I finished reading the newspaper story written by Jack Brubaker, aka "The Scribbler", he told of the concert he had recently attended on the rear lawn of Wheatland, under the old, dying elm, and listening to the musical piece titled 'Noon Witch' by Antonin Dvorak.  He tells that the music follows the story of a woman who threatens her son with a call to the 'Noon Witch' if he doesn't behave.  The son misbehaves, the witch arrives and the mother runs away with her son in her arms.  As she runs she faints and falls on her son, smothering the child to death.  So, did the 'Noon Witch'  kill the child or the mother?  Did the horned owl kill the Elm trees or did the Dutch Elm Disease.  You be the judge!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.   

The "A New Family Moves To Harrington Drive" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Snickerdoodle, our new cat who arrived at our back door a few months ago, was looking out the window next to me and making noises that emanated from deep in his throat.  I knew he had spotted something so I put down my book and stretched my body to take a look for myself.  To the right of the window, about ten feet up in the arborvitae trees, was what had drawn his attention.  

If you look hard you can see three beaks sticking up in the
air, waiting for mom or dad to divvy up a few worms.
Click on image to enlarge it.

A robin had just arrived with a mouthful of worms to feed her new family that was alive and well in the nest she and her mate had constructed along our home.  I could see three tiny heads with small yellow beaks sticking out of the twigs and grasses they had been used to make their nest.  One by one the mother feed the brood and after she left to find more food, the male robin arrives with more worms.  

Feeding time once again.

The recent wet weather has made finding worms an easy chore for the mom and dad.  For the next two weeks Snickerdoodle and I made multiple daily checks on the parents and fledglings, watching as they grew and gained a fine covering of feathers.  I even managed to shoot a few photos from the sharp angle where they had built their nest.  One afternoon a storm arrived and one of the adult robins sat on top of the nest, with wings spread open, to protect the three fledglings.  If we needed to check on Snickerdoodle, we knew exactly where we could find him.  And then, just as quick as we found them, they were gone.  Snickerdoodle still looks out at the nest, but after a quick check, he's at the back door waiting for the squirrels and chipmunks to stop for a peanut that Carol has just thrown out to them.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Snickerdoodle keeping a close watch on the bird's nest.

One more view of feeding time.

The "As The Crow Flies" Story

It was an ordinary day.  A very unusual day due to the high temperatures we have experienced in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania this winter.  Only twice this winter have I had to clean the snow off the wooden sidewalks and both times it was only about an inch deep.  I won't say I don't enjoy the fact that we haven't been inundated with the white stuff, but I know many people rely on snow to earn a living in the winter.  With Lancaster having a latitude of 40.044437 degrees, winter days in the 50s and even the low 60s are rare, but we have been blessed, in my estimation, with quite a few of those days this year.  

The sleek-looking black crow

Today has been one of those days, mild with a slight breeze coming from the west, and as I sat in my recliner at 7:38 pm watching "Jeopardy", I was startled by the loud "boom" outside my family room window.  "What was that?" I said to my wife.  Before she had a chance to respond, it happened again.  And then again. "I'll bet those are the cannons going off at Park City Mall," she said to me.  Every fall, one of our local shopping malls, Park City Center, fires miniature cannons to try to persuade the crow population, that happens to arrive every fall on their way to ... I haven't the faintest idea where, to leave the mall area where they bomb the customers and splatter their latest meal over the cars parked in the lot.  Usually they leave and find their way to ... my neighborhood which is about a mile from the the shopping center.  

Crows gather in my walnut trees next to my home.

The American crow is one of America's best known bird.  They are fairly large, compared to other local birds, and do make a mess on the driveway and at times on the siding of the house, but they are an interesting bird.  I love their sleek color, their call and find they are a fairly intelligent bird.  Read that they can count to three or four, are good at solving puzzles, have good memories and can associate various noises and symbols with food.  That explains why they gather on our barren walnut trees when they hear and see me fill up the bird feeders.  But they almost always disappear when the weather report indicates severe cold weather.  

At our local Manheim Township Public Library was
recently held the 3rd Annual "All-Crow" Community
Art Show.  This piece of art is titled "Poe" and
was nominated for "Best In Crow" award.

And, that is why they are still in the neighborhood.  I got to know crows very well when I went to see Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" in 1963.  Most everyone hated crows after that movie.  Well, Lancaster has been trying to coax the crows to move on by a variety of methods over the past couple of years.  Back in 2004 Lancaster's method of eliminating the crows was to poison them.  Four townships backed the move until they realized that the dead crows were ending up in elementary school playgrounds.  It was also the same time when bald eagles were making a comeback in Lancaster County and the eagles were eating the dead carcasses and dying.  

As part of the show, "Haiku", a traditional form of Japanese
poetry may be submitted.  Haiku poems consist of 3 lines.  The
first and last lines have 5 syllables while the middle line has
7 syllables.  The lines rarely rhyme.  In this case they deal with crows. 

Plus the fact that the poison was being spread on farmland which in turn went into the watershed which ended in our drinking water.  Eventually the Lancaster Crow Coalition formed and has slowly succeeded in the humane displacement of crows to less urban areas.  I must admit that over the past ten or more years I have learned so much about crows and their idiosyncrasies and nuances.  I really don't mind their noisy talk in my walnut trees or the white blotches on my driveway, since I know they are only passing through and will be gone as fast as they arrive.  All except this year when the weather has been extremely mild.  Hope global warming doesn't spoil my acceptance of the crows!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "The Caw Of The Crows" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Sunday and I'm on my way out the driveway with my cat to get the morning paper.  We stop part-way to observe the commotion across the street in my neighbor's driveway.  There sat three black crows ripping my neighbor's newspaper to shreds.  Section by section they picked apart the paper as I watched intently.  My cat sat next to me on the driveway watching the noisy birds cawing to one another as they methodically ruined the paper.  It was as if they knew what they were after.  Coupons for bird seed?  Story about the canons at nearby Park City Mall being activated to keep the crows away?  

Front page of a supplement telling of the art show.

Finally, one of them picked up a section of the paper and the three flew into the nearby trees where hundreds of other crows were nesting this time of the year.  Didn't think much of it until I began reading my paper and saw a magazine section that featured a big black crow.  I'm not lying!  

One of many art pieces.  This one was by Deborah Diana.

The "Entertain- ment Lancaster" supplement featured a big black crow telling about an art show that would open soon at the library situated behind my neighbor's house.  Now what are the chances of something like that happening?   Well, I did some research and found that the brain size of the black crow, in relation to body mass, is equal to that of great apes and dolphins, and only slightly lower than humans.  And, that isn't just the black crow's brain size, but their cognitive abilities as well.  

Another of my favorites painted by Sydney
Herr, a 12th grader at Donegal HS.

Many researchers find the black crow to be among the most intelligent of all animals.  But, there is no way they knew about the story in the paper about the black crow art show in the library across the street!!  Did they?  I did give my neighbor a call and give him a heads up about his paper and told him he may want to call and have another one delivered.  Then today I made a stop at the library to view the art show.  It was titled: Lancaster County's 2nd Annual "All Crow" Community Art Show and featured paintings, drawings, sculptures and ceramics in three different rooms as well as the lobby and fireplace area of the library.  One display case in the lobby featured ceramics from Manheim Township High School where I taught until retiring in 1999.  

Entire display of work from Manheim Twp. HS.

The annual event was started last year by a group called Crows "R" Us, a small flock of crow enthusiasts.  Many local artists placed art in the show with the hopes of selling their artwork.  Three local high schools submitted artwork.  I enjoyed all the artwork and was amazed how the black crow was featured in the many pieces.  I can still remember Alfred Hitchcock's movie "The Birds" and how scary it was even in black and white.  I must admit that the black crows are a pain as they roost on the many trees I have around my property.  The noise at times is deafening.  But, one day I will awake and they will be gone, moving to a new locale to begin their routine all over again.  And, possibly searching for another publication to find and dissect.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Another favorite titled Keeper of the Sun by Page
Baxter.  It was for sale for $200.