The Scrub Jays are smart, but the ravens are smarter. Scrub Jays will take a peanut from a ten-year-old's hand. Ravens ask for the peanuts. Fly away. Wait until they are thrown. Then, they bide their time. They will not budge until I am out of their eyesight. Smart birds.
I come in peace, but I am a rare bird myself.
My neighbors go to war with the ravens and then wonder why there are rotten animal carcasses left on their steps. Why things go missing. Why their emergence from the house starts a goddamn riot of noise in the neighborhood. I just smile.
Go ahead and fight the squirrels, you might stand a chance.
The ravens are smarter than you are.
I'm happy when I feel the light scrape of the Jay's talons on my fingers while they swoop down to take an offering. I am happy when I see the cautious mistrust of the ravens.
Birds are royalty. Evolution took them into the clouds, and left the rest of us struggling animals to fend for ourselves, on the ground. We can look up, but we can't take flight. Not without money and technology and a little bit of faith.
So, give a bird a peanut. Some popcorn. Seeds. Tell them you see them. Let them see you. Then, fly away, you have bigger things to do.