I’ve got lots of news to report but I’m too busy so here’s a raven photo.
I call this bird my barn raven, because she/he/it hangs out with my horses. My raven is usually alone even though there are plenty of other ravens that live in and above my valley. Sometimes, but not often, another bird shows up with mine, but I don’t think that one is all that interested in in horses or talking to other species.
A raven’s voice is meant to be heard. When I hear the gronks and croaks, the gurgles and occasional squawks, the muttering talky-talk that ravens do (though rarely any cawing when at the barn, since those calls are not meant for me), I peek out the window knowing I’ll see my raven out there speechifying.
The horses don’t pay any attention to it, far as I can tell. They ignore the sound of the raven hopping around on the metal of the roof, or the chatter when it’s on the horse fence panels. Sometimes it’ll be practically under one of the mares’ feet, stealing a bit of breakfast. The horses don’t mind. Sometimes my raven launches from the rim of the water trough when a horse comes to drink. This bird is so huge that the horses aren’t ever startled. They can’t help but know she/he/it is there.
My lovely raven tolerates me taking photos. Most all wildlife will flee at the sight of a human’s arms lifting, as if to shoot, but my barn raven has learned that I’m possibly trustworthy.