When I'm Calling You....

During our recent visit to Arizona, we spent 3 days in chilly, but gorgeous Sedona. While taking a short hike around our hotel, we heard some gurgling and cooing and looked up to see this pitch-black raven bobbing and weaving, making a very unusual noise.  I know that ravens and crows can make dozens of different sounds, and they are notorious for mimicking other birds and animals as well, but I had never heard this variation before. It's sort of a cross between a mourning dove and a sand hill crane. Could it be a mating call of sorts? He kept it up for several minutes before flying off. I've also posted a video below which includes a short burst of it.  (Hope it works for you.)

UPDATE:  I think I've come close on this one... it almost sounds like he is mimicking the call of the Sand Hill Crane, which is making a very strong come-back around the US once again.  When they fly high over-head, their regular call is quite muted and is similar to this raven's 'churl'.  

Quoth the Raven, Nevermore

I was greeted by 3 large black ravens perched above my car in our parking lot at work the other day, and they were making quite a racket! Their endless chatter did sound at times like specific words.  To fit in with today's image, below are a few verses from an abridged version of Edgar Allan Poe's  poem of love and loss, "The Raven."

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —

Only this, and nothing more."

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —

Merely this, and nothing more.

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.

Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore —

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

(The complete version can be read here.)