Our intelligent associates

Like the scent of a balsam fir, certain sounds just mean “north.” For years, I would have put the vocalizations of ravens, loons and white-throated sparrows on that list, since they were the soundtrack of many portages and campsites in the Boundary Waters. I would anticipate, when heading from the Twin Cities toward Grand Marais, that there would be a point—maybe around Sandstone—where that big black bird winging in the distance would be a raven rather than a crow. I’d look forward to it, as I looked forward to seeing more white pines lifting their lofty arms above the canopy. For me, these were welcome signs that I was returning to the north country.
Now, I’m not sure those same sounds mean what they once did. When I hear the white-throated sparrows where I live in east-central Minnesota in spring, I’m still pretty confident that they are headed north to breed. When loons return, I understand that some are here to nest on local lakes, but most are bound for northern breeding sites. And ravens? Well, it’s become clear at least some of them are very much at home farther south than I had imagined. Judging from the blood-curdling, human-like screams of juvenile ravens I’m hearing in spring and early summer, they’re having success at nesting here, too.

What, if anything, has changed in the ranges of Minnesota’s ravens and crows? It could be that my notion about the raven/crow line was fiction all along. I asked my favorite expert source for all things bird, Lee Pfannmuller, for her perspective. She generously did some digging, and shares a wealth of information, following.
Historical abundance & distribution
Says Lee: “In Minnesota, both the American Crow and the Common Raven have experienced significant changes in abundance and distribution over the past one hundred years. In his sentinel publication, The Birds of Minnesota, T.S. Roberts (1932), noted that the raven was a common winter resident across northern Minnesota, with records that even extended south to hunting and logging camps in Otter Tail and Wadena counties. During the summer months, however, the birds all but disappeared.
“Breeding records were extremely rare and restricted to a handful of observations along cliffs hugging the Canadian border. The paucity of records led Roberts to proclaim that the raven ‘may be approaching extinction in the state.’
“Fortunately, ever since that dire prediction was made, the breeding population has consistently increased in northern Minnesota while also expanding further to the south and west. In both 2009 and 2012 the Minnesota Breeding Bird Atlas confirmed breeding as far south as northern Washington County. Farther west, along the prairie-forest border in Becker and Wadena counties, ravens were never reported along a federal Breeding Bird Survey route that was surveyed nearly every June for 48 years, from 1967-2014. Now they are consistently observed along the route and have slowly increased in abundance from 2015 to 2025. Today, the raven’s winter distribution mirrors its breeding distribution, occurring throughout the Laurentian Mixed Forest Region, from Kittson County in the northwest corner of the state, southeast to Washington County.
“Are raven’s expanding their range south into new territory or simply re-occupying their former range? The latter is more likely. A large black bird, often seen as a local nuisance to early explorers and loggers, was an easy target of human persecution in the late 1800s and early 1900s. The loss of suitable habitat as the northern forests were heavily logged further increased the pressure on breeding populations. The raven’s later expansion southward in Minnesota and Ontario beginning in the mid-1900s is due in part to road expansion resulting in increased food from road kills and landfill garbage (pers. communication, Jerry Niemi).

“The American Crow, another large black bird, was not immune to the persecution experienced by the raven in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Roberts’ 1932 account of the species is laden with accounts of the damage to agricultural crops caused by crows and the organized hunts, trapping efforts, and bounties designed to reduce local populations. Once the exploitation ended, breeding populations recovered and the bird is now abundant across Minnesota during the summer months, also having benefitted by its adaptation to a landscape modified by human settlement.
“It is the winter distribution of the crow that has changed most significantly in Minnesota over the years. Rarely observed north of a line between Duluth and Otter Tail County in the late 1800s and early 1900s, deep snows and few human settlements that could offer feeding opportunities at open landfills and feedlots were not conducive to crows during the inhospitable winter season. But, as towns and small farms spread farther into the north country, the bird’s winter presence increased, and it is now common throughout the region. Warmer winters, with reduced snow cover, also provide more foraging opportunities for crows in natural habitats as well.
“Throughout most of the last century crows and ravens have co-existed, certainly during the winter months in northern Minnesota and more recently during the summer months in northeastern and central Minnesota. Little is known about their interspecific relations. There is anecdotal evidence that ravens that are foraging are dominant over crows, even stealing food from crows; crows have been observed chasing ravens but rarely is the reverse seen. Outside of the breeding season, Caffrey and colleagues (2025) described the crow’s response to ravens as “opportunistic, watchful, and cautious.’ “
Interesting neighbors
So, it appears that my sense of ravens being a species of the north country in the 1980s may have had some truth to it at the time. It’s still true; but now they’re breeding farther south in the state as well.
To my mind, we’re fortunate when both of crows and ravens are present in our communities. They make for very interesting neighbors, given what research has taught us about their social customs, language (yes, many scientists and even linguists agree it qualifies as language) and vocabularies. Ravens are said to have nearly eighty calls, with about twenty basic calls, each variable in intensity, duration, pitch and rate.
As Marzluff and Angell write in their wonderful book, In the Company of Crows and Ravens, “Many vocalizations are individually distinct so that the caller’s aim and identity are stamped onto each utterance.” It’s not noise, but meaningful, nuanced communication. In the case of those juvenile ravens screaming bloody murder, they do it when an adult is approaching with food, a perfectly reasonable thing to do.
The book offers abundant evidence that the corvids’ reputation for intelligence is well-earned, with the ability to recall discrete events and recognize individual people associated with negative or positive interactions. If you have shot at a crow or offered one a crust of bread, you are likely remembered (sometimes with a peck on the head). Citing studies by Homberg and Heinrich, the authors relate how ravens have learned to tug on the untended lines of fishermen: “pulling the line, standing on it, pulling it further, standing on it again, pulling it again, and so on to receive the reward.”
As might be expected, the brains of corvids display physical differences that set them apart from other birds. “The relative brain size of crows and ravens is more similar to that of mammals, including primates, than to other birds,” note the authors. “Mentally, crows and ravens are more like flying monkeys than they are like other birds. This means that they are able to learn, remember, and use insight to solve natural and human challenges.”
Hmm. With the current state of affairs in our nation and world, it seems that we could really use those exact skills. We just might not be the species that has them.
How to tell them apart when they’re not calling? Up close, it’s easy to distinguish crow from raven, given the raven’s impressive size, Jimmy Durante-esque beak with its curved beak, and its ruff of throat feathers. Less easy at a distance. In flight, you might note the difference in tail shape; the raven’s is trowel-shaped. Ravens often travel in pairs and are prone to soaring; crows typically travel in groups of three or more, flapping all the way. But don’t be surprised if they change it up, just to mess with you.
These days, I get to listen for the loud “quork” of ravens right at home. I’m happy to hear the sam-peabody-peabody-peabody-pee of the white sparrow as it’s moving through in spring, and grateful that at least a few nesting pairs of loons stick around. I still watch for the big white pines when I head north, and catch my breath at the grand sweep of Superior as you come over the rise and drop toward Duluth. Some things don’t change.

Many thanks to Lee Pfannmuller for her contribution to this story.
Lee A. Pfannmuller has served in numerous capacities working both with Audubon Minnesota and the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources for nearly 40 years. Throughout her career she has focused on Nongame Wildlife Species Management, Forest Bird Management, Endangered Species Policy, and Biodiversity Conservation, all with a special focus on birds. In addition to being a co-author for The Breeding Birds of Minnesota, she co-edited the book, Minnesota’s Endangered Flora and Fauna.
Sources:
Caffrey, C., N. A. Verbeek, A. B. Clark, K. J. McGowan, and P. Pyle (2025). American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos), version 1.5. In Birds of the World (A. F. Poole, F. B. Gill, and M. G. Smith, Editors). Cornell Lab of Ornithology, Ithaca, NY, USA. https://doi.org/10.2173/bow.amecro.01.5
Marzluff, John M. and Tony Angell (2005). In the Company of Crows and Ravens. Yale University Press, New Haven and London.
Pfannmuller, L. A., G. J. Niemi, and J. C. Green. 2024. The Breeding Birds of Minnesota: Their History, Ecology, and Conservation. University of Minnesota Press. 685 pages.
Roberts, T. S. 1932. The Birds of Minnesota. 2 vols. Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press.