The little ones were found on the ground about a hundred meters from our place—on the path below Raymonde’s mill, and brought to Nadine, who has been feeding them ever since. They are now in the aviary next to Paulette and Pauline. The trees provide shade and will keep them cool, and Nadine stops by regularly to feed them.

She has done some research on how to care for them until they can be released. She contacted the center in Millau—the “Centre Régional de Sauvegarde de la Faune Sauvage Caussenard” (05 65 59 09 87)—and it’s clear the little ones need more space.

Before bringing them here, Nadine used to take them out every day to the forest near where they were found so they could get used to the environment, hoping their parents might still be around. She’d let them hop and squawk, then pick them back up, hop! into the box, and head home.

She laughed as she described how the little ones sleep: on their bellies, with wings and legs splayed flat and heads resting to the side… just like babies. It’s hard to know what was funnier: watching Nadine contort herself to mimic the unusual pose, or picturing the chicks sleeping like newborns. “The first time I saw them like that, I thought they were dead,” she told us.

 “They need more space to learn to fly, and I only have a small cage that isn’t suitable anymore.” Apparently, a mother rook can recognize her chicks by their call up to five days after being separated. Those five days have flown by, but perhaps other adult rooks will take them under their wing once they’re free? It would be interesting to be able to track them once they’re out in the wild…

“You can use our aviary; it’s empty right now. Go take a look—it’s behind the sheep shed.” She happily accepts it for her little birds. That is so great! Thanks a lot!

And if you’re interested, I can also take over the feeding during the day when you’re busy. Looking after her little ones takes up a lot of her time, and she’s tired.

This morning—my first day filling in for Nadine—I find them perched side by side, about a meter and a half off the ground. They look at me, and one senses an incredible intelligence in their gaze. They’re really huge for babies, I think to myself. They watch me intently as I enter Pauline and Paulette’s aviary next door.

When I step into theirs and get closer, they catch on immediately and open their beaks wide. They’re ready. Banana, apple, cheese… and then, once they’re full, they stop opening their beaks, turn their backs on me, and get busy on their perch: they’re looking for anything they can pry loose, pull at, or lift up… They’re curious about everything.

“They’ll never leave,” Sylvie tells us. “They’re like dogs. Once they’ve been at your place for a few days, they’ll consider it home.

” At noon, when I enter their aviary, they climb down from their perch and run toward me with their beaks open. They’re certainly adapting quickly. They eat, drink, and go off to play. I’ve read that rooks get used to new environments very fast. Sure enough, here they’ve gone from the cardboard box at Nadine’s place to this 40-cubic-meter space with no apparent trouble. They seem delighted to see Nadine again when she arrives around 3 p.m. with food. Nadine will be back this evening. She’s going to bring me everything I need for tomorrow’s first two feedings.

Day two is the same. They stuff themselves with food and then go off to play. In the distance, I regularly hear rooks calling. “By the way, what’s the difference between crows and rooks?” I ask Nadine. She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says, “but I’m guessing they’re rooks.”

I am reading: rooks are smaller than crows and have black beaks. They live in large flocks and readily frequent towns. Crows are much larger—solitary or in pairs—and have grey beaks with a small hook at the tip, like birds of prey, only smaller. You don’t find them in towns. So, the birds Nadine and I are looking after are definitely rooks.

This morning, they are fluttering from branch to branch in the aviary. The corners of their beaks are still a bit yellow, and they have patches of down amidst their feathers. How long before they become independent I wonder.

“One of the issues the Caussenard Regional Wildlife Rescue Centre focuses on—especially at this time of year—is fledglings that leave the nest before they can fly and become independent on the ground. It is perfectly normal at this time of year to come across a young blackbird hopping along the ground. Within a few days, it will take flight; its parents are nearby, watching over it and feeding it, even if they aren’t visible! A fledgling on the ground isn’t necessarily in trouble or abandoned. Rescue centres receive many young animals (almost half of all admissions) that have been picked up ‘mistakenly’ by well-meaning people. Unfortunately, human caretakers can never replace the parents!”

 And that is precisely what worries Nadine: once they are able to fly, they won’t necessarily know how to feed themselves. For now, we have to push the food deep into their beaks; otherwise, they reject it. They don’t know how to swallow it if it’s simply placed at the tip of the beak. Nadine leaves seeds for them in a dish. This morning, the dish was empty. Had they eaten them, or just played with them?

We are discussing their release this afternoon—perhaps leaving the aviary door open one day when the time seems right, while continuing to come by several times a day to offer them food…