Three ravens told me that it’s garbage day on Chicken Ridge. Actually, it was their presence on a neighbor’s chimney that tipped me off. (I don’t speak their language).  The big black birds position themselves each Tuesday morning so they can watch the drag of trash cans from bear proof locations to the edge of the street. How they gained their perfect knowledge of the town’s trash collection schedule is a mystery. Perhaps they have a contact at waste disposal.

The ravens look for spillage or unsecured can lids that they can cleverly remove when I’m at work.  After being mugged a few times I now secure ours with a bungee cord.

If 7th Street yields nothing, they move down the ridge to 6th Street.  That’s where I found the gang, loitering casually by the Beasley Brothers totems near the Seward Street Stairs.  Most looked away from the 6th Street garbage cans, leaving one to monitor the garbage truck’s progress toward them.  They all ignored the Pink Flamingos, knowing that the plastic birds can’t compete.