Image: Amy Martin
In spring and summer, Portland’s crows spread out. They disperse across the landscape, forming smaller groups to forage, defend territory, and raise young. But starting in the fall, and in increasing numbers over the winter, they come downtown in the evenings and roost till morning. Their numbers have grown over the past decade, with counts in recent years exceeding 20,000 birds.
Potential explanations abound. It could be the relative warmth of downtown, or the relative lack of predators there, or the high levels of ambient light, or the access to food (trash!), or simply safety in numbers. It could also be that crows meet greater tolerance from urban humans than from those in rural areas, where they may encounter lethal controls if they’re, say, feasting on crops. That’s not to say they wreak no havoc here, and Portland has over the years tried a range of tactics to contend with their fecal matter, which the Bird Alliance of Oregon calls “prodigious.” When daily pressure washing and a Zamboni-like machine known as the Poopmaster 6000 proved insufficient, the city hired falconers, whose Harris hawks haze the crows across a 128-square-block abatement area, nudging them away from spots with the highest levels of human activity, like the transit mall, toward those more equipped to handle their excrement, like the waterfront.
Whatever the reasons, whatever the mess, what’s indisputable is that it’s a hell of a display. The crows often form smaller pre-roost congregations in trees around town, as if for happy hour. And then, as the sun descends, the cacophonous clouds converge on the central city. Still at the office? Time to go home.
Published in the Portland’s 50 Best Restaurants issue of Portland Monthly.
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