The pigeon flock in the park took off all of a sudden, like a loud clap. In the silence that followed, I looked up: The male Sparrowhawk flew into the tree tops, I managed to see where it landed, high up in a sycamore. The leaves made it tricky to have a clear view, but I managed a few shots. When I find a predator by interpreting the behaviour of their prey I get a satisfying 'Dr. Dolittle moment'. The rattling call of the crow that gives this blog its name, or the alarm call of the blue tit have pointed me to many a Sparrowhawk. The Feral Pigeons are probably safer in flight than sitting on the cafe roof when a Sparrowhawk is out hunting, so they take off as soon as they see the raptor in flight.