She came racing up the driveway that Sunday morning. "Hurry," she yelled, "Grab your camera! The crows are anting at Mom's house!" We had read about anting in David Quammen's excellent book, Natural Acts. It was a behavior that sounded more amusing then real. And here it was, happening right down the road in my Mother in-law's front yard.

She furiously drove the one mile stretch, slowing down as she approached her mother's house on the left. I could see the ant hill clearly, with a single crow sitting on top of the mound. The bird occasionally picked up a mouthful of ants and rubbed its body with the squished insects. In an apple tree nearby, were three other crows, presumably standing guard, or awaiting their turn.

She slowly turned the truck around in the driveway and approached the crows. My 300mm lens was already resting on the lowered window. With the motor shut off, we coasted to a silent stop. I was able to get one shot off, before the crow flew up to the tree. The four birds took off at once, landing at the side of the road about 50 yards away. For the next 15 minutes or so, we watched as the crows rolled around on the pavement, spreading their wings, grinding the tender skin underneath into the asphalt. The birds then flew to a nearby fir tree for an extended preening session.

As we watched, we couldn't decide if the crows had had just visited their version of a neighborhood tavern, or had simply decided to spend a pleasant morning at the beauty parlor.