This raucous corvid, the Northwestern Crow, made its presence clearly known in all corners of the bustling fishing town of Petersburg today. Yesterday it was this same species that broke the silence of the stately forests of Williams Cove in Tracy Arm. Hungry fledglings, recently out of the nest, are following their parents, often bowling them over as they beg incessantly for food. The beaches are home to this crow, which rarely wanders far from the ocean shore or out of settled areas. It is a diminutive cousin of the American Crow and is confined to the coastal zone of Washington, British Columbia and Alaska.

But is it a true species? Is it sufficiently different in genetic makeup, morphology and behavior to warrant full separation from its widespread cousin? Ornithologists continue to debate this question, some claiming that it is simply a small coastal subspecies. Perhaps more research, especially using advanced techniques of DNA analysis, will settle the question. For now, though, it remains a bird with a true identity.

It is at home in the intertidal zone, flipping rockweed in search of isopods, breaking into sea urchins, searching for stranded fish, and cleaning up the barnacles and shellfish crushed by black bears and brown (grizzly) bears as they scour the intertidal zone. It lives a healthy life by the sea, and may be the longest-lived member of the crow family, with some individuals reaching 14 or more years. But does it deserve the reputation often given to it and other members of its family for intelligence? At what point can intelligence be separated from instinct?