A few months ago, a coworker of mine had suggested I write a column about crows.

I agreed it would be an interesting column, wondered why I hadn’t done it sooner, and resolved to write one forthwith. But for some reason, it kept getting pushed to the back burner, as other birds and topics presented themselves. Crows are ubiquitous and easy to overlook, but they are perfect subjects for observation and behavior study because they are so numerous. Besides, their intelligence and cunning are legendary. They’ve been found to use tools and can imitate the human voice, and they are extremely observant and resourceful.

Still, the idea of a column on crows kept slipping to the back of my mind. Maybe it’s easy to dismiss them because they are so common. That is, until they do something to capture your full attention. Come to think of it, they seem to have a knack for this, especially when they spread the contents of household garbage all over the sidewalk.

But, that’s never happened to me, so I had no reason to focus my attention on them. Until one day about a week ago….

I was driving along I-95 to Old Town when I noticed three crows up ahead. They were flying pell-mell through the air – somersaulting, diving, even flipping upside down – at the utmost speed, sometimes coming within inches of the ground. They were riding some crazy, invisible roller-coaster in the sky, and I was headed right for them, driving 65 miles per hour. My imagination ran away with me and I had a horrible, clear vision of one of them coming right through my windshield and causing a fiery wreck.

Naturally, I slowed down and switched lanes to put as much distance between them and myself as possible. I wasn’t sure if they realized that traffic was approaching and wasn’t going to assume they’d get out of my way in time. Luckily, their acrobatics took them away from the highway and as I passed them by, I could still see their crazy sky-dancing out of the corner of my eye.

That was an attention-getter.

The encounter reminded me about the column, and I started wondering about their behavior. After doing some research, I realized their death-defying stunts were indicative of the changes occurring in their lives with the coming of spring.

In winter, long lines of crows cross the sky as they travel the same flight paths every day to large roosts. These roosts of resident birds are often augmented by migrants from farther north and can number in the hundreds, if not thousands. The birds may travel more than 50 miles each day to search for food, but they always return to the same roost.

In late winter the large flocks begin to break up. Migrants begin the return trip back north, and residents break up into smaller groups. For some reason, much of what looks like fighting, as well as chasing, occurs in these groups; this must have been what I had witnessed.

Once the actual courtship and breeding season is upon them, crows undergo a radical change. They are no longer noisy and conspicuous; they become quiet and secretive. Both members of a mated pair begin constructing a nest; their young from the previous year, who don’t breed until they are 2 years old, help their parents feed and raise the new brood.

Crows may be common, but they are a fascinating clan.

Chris Corio, a volunteer at Fields Pond Audubon Center in Holden, can be reached at fieldspond@juno.com