410 Townsend, A Winter Crow Roost. [o"t. 



Crows go by bound for the roost. With a strong northwest wind 

 the greater number fly in the lea of the hill close to the marsh. A 

 smaller number push their way in the valley to the north partly 

 sheltered from the wind by the trees. It is rare that one exposes 

 himself to the full sweep of the wind over the top of the hill. When 

 the wind is in the east the Crows fly close to the marsh and follow 

 the windings of Castle Creek. With a westerly breeze, however, 

 the birds fly high and, silhouetted against the sunset glow, the 

 birds pass over the hill at great speed, alternately flapping and 

 sailing. Those that fly over the marshes keep at the level of the 

 top of the hill instead of skimming close to the ground as they do 

 in unfavorable winds. I have counted eighty and at times as 

 many as one hundred and twenty passing in a minute in this 

 western tributary to the roost. 



The afternoon of the twenty-second of February, 1917, was cold 

 and clear with a wind from the northwest. I made my way to the 

 top of Castle Hill in order to watch the stream of Crows from the 

 north. The first arrivals came at half past four o'clock. They 

 were flying over the ice-filled marshes of the Ipswich and Plum 

 Island Rivers, on the lookout perhaps for a last scanty portion of 

 food before bedtime. On reaching Castle Hill they flew up over 

 its crest and glided down into the hard woods to the east and west 

 of the evergreen roost. Here they took part in the regular noisy 

 evening crow reception of the three streams before retiring for the 

 night. 



At the full of the moon on the sixth of January I visited the 

 roost at 9 P. M., a time when all well regulated crows should, I 

 had supposed, be sound asleep. As I approached the roost much 

 to my surprise I heard distant sleepy cries like those of young 

 herons, and when I reached the edge of the roosting trees there was 

 a tumultuous rush and bustle of Crows flying from tree to tree and 

 overhead. Strain my eyes as I would only occasionally could I 

 catch sight of a black form, although the air was brilliant with the 

 moonlight and the reflection from the snow. I turned back at 

 once as I had no desire to disturb the birds' slumbers but it was 

 evident that many, even at this late hour, had not settled down 

 for the night. 



The morning flight from the roost takes less time than the evening 

 return. As I approached it in the semi-darkness at 6.25 A. M. on 



