On White Winged Choughs Poem by Francis Duggan

They do not fly far when they feel the need to fly
To the low branches of a tree nearby
Birds quite as black and as big as an average sized crow
But as they fly the white on their underwings does show.

They build a bowl shaped mud nest on a fork of branch of tree
That from the ground is not that hard to see
The female lays cream coloured brown blotched eggs and in a show of harmony
The young are raised with the help of all of the family.

With red eyes and long thin curved bills on insects they do feed
And in Winter they mostly eat seed
But farmers about them are known to complain
For when they sow their crops they eat some of the grain

Not known to cope well with environmental change
And not even very common in their range
Distinctive in their manner and their call
With them tis all for one and one for all.