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I’d Like to Report a Murder

Pixabay - The American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos), Courtesy Pixabay, Alexas Photos, Contributor
The American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos), Courtesy Pixabay, Alexas Photos, Contributor
Driving the return road from our family’s trip to Goblin Valley, I scoured the lonely San Rafael landscape, searching for something to keep me alert.

Suddenly, a shadow peeled off the ground and drifted into the sky. Was that an eagle?

A second later, I sighed. That was no eagle. It was a blasted crow.

You should know two things about this moment: first, as I would discover later, considering its size, solitary nature, and rural location, I was more than likely seeing a raven, not a crow. The other thing you should know is that at this time in my life I had a festering contempt for any bird of the corvid variety—corvid meaning crows, ravens, magpies … Our troubled past has its roots in walking to my work at Skyview high school and feeling personally targeted by the local murder, the term for a grouping of crows (tell me that your species is despised by the human race without actually telling me).

This murder lounged on the roof above my classroom and cackled at me that seemed like obvious derision. I recprocated
anytime we went outside and we would heckle back and forth. I’d try to scare them off with some weakly tossed pebbles and sticks.

It should be no surprise then, that the Raven outside Goblin Valley brought disappointment verging upon abhorrence. Whether on roofs, bare trees in the winter, or even in the middle of nowhere deserts, crows are freaking everywhere I go!

And that is when it hit me. The only two animal species in this desolate landscape at this moment were humans … and corvids. Perhaps crows, ravens, magpies are so ubiquitous because they are intrinsically connected to one other species: humans.

Perhaps, just as crows followed humans to a wide-range of environments, they also adopted some of our best and most regrettable traits along the way.

In spite of those human-like faults, like greed, bickering and pestering, they also reflected some of our better qualities of ingenuity, community, and interspecies regard.

I begrudgingly saluted the raven, now a speck in the rear view mirror, and decided to reset my views of corvids. I reasoned that if I could not show crows respect, then how could I respect my own human race?

I decided to track down an expert. Dr. Becky Williams from the Utah State University biology department in the Uintah Basin extension, was kind enough to allow some amateur questions from me.

First, Dr. Williams assured me that crows are “aggressive territorial predators.” One could see how they might see a rooftop on the school and surrounding area as their own domain, and defend it aggressively against intruders! Hard to criticize a bird for that, when there could not be a more territorial preditor than our own species.

When I spoke to Dr. Williams about the versatility of crows—their habitat reaches nearly as wide range of locations and climates as humans—she talked about a big reason being their intelligence. Corvid birds are smart, and that means that they don’t need as perfect an environment because they can come up with clever ways to survive.

Crows have bigger brains than their fellow fowl. They can remember thousands of different cache locations for seeds or other foods. They can even remember faces. Dr. Williams directed me to a study where crows recognized a unique human mask that researchers used in their interactions with a particular murder. When she told me this, I had no problem confirming what seemed to me a very targeted pestering from the same crows over several years.

This intelligence, Dr. Williams explained, tended to show itself in social animals: Crows, dolphins, humans … all spend a majority of their time in communities. The complex relationships of those communities causes them to need to remember who is a cooperator and who is a cheater. In other words, they make an in-group of those who work together, and they hold a grudge. What’s more human than that!

Once this information shifted my views on crows, I knew that I lacked much needed reconciliation. The south Smithfield murder of crows and I had nursed our historic differences, and it was time that I made things right.

When the murder showed up at their regular spot above my classroom, I tried meeting the crows outside. I wanted them to see my face as I gave them a snack. As soon as I reached into my pocket for a gift snack, they flapped off into the distance. My action of reaching for an object must have seemed familiar to them, as pulling things off the ground or out of my pocket was how I used to scare them off from before. They remembered the old me, and—as I had shamefully trained them—they retreated.

Just a couple of days ago, after weeks of non-aggressive attempted interactions, one of the more daring crows overcame reticence and dropped to the ground to investigate the unsalted peanut I dropped for them. He looked at it, looked at me, snatched it and withdrew back to the tree.

I am happy to report that now more of them are feeling comfortable picking up snacks I leave for them.

Am I looking to create a utopian bond between these crows and me? No. Perhaps dropping an occasional peanut and not yelling at each other will be the best that we can get. But I feel an immense satisfaction in seeing these remarkable animals respond to my overtures and believing that we have mended a divide between us and possibly even cultivated respect.

One of the biggest differences that I’ve noticed lately, is that when I step outside for my daily walk, no longer am I looking down to queue up the latest podcast with people cackling about political strife, or to take in media designed to ruffle the feathers of indignation of one group against another. Instead, as soon as I step outside, I look up. I’m looking for my new corvid friends—humbled, hopeful, grateful.

This is Marty Reeder, and I am Wild About Utah

Credits:

Image: Courtesy Pixabay, Alexas Photos, Contributor
Featured Audio: Courtesy Freesound.org): 210701 American Crows, caws calling, sparrows, robin, urban residential, TORONTO, 7am.wav by TRP, Thomas Ryder Payne. Sound designer, composer, musician. Based in Toronto. — https://freesound.org/s/616975/
License: Creative Commons 0
Text: Marty Reeder, https://skyview.ccsdut.org/
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Marty Reeder

Strand, Holly, Crow vs. Raven, Wild About Utah, September 15, 2011, https://wildaboututah.org/crow-vs-raven/

Kelly, Patrick, Greetings puny earthlings, Wild About Utah, September 28, 2020, https://wildaboututah.org/greetings-puny-earthlings/

Boling, Josh, Josh’s Raven Encounter, Wild About Utah, June 11, 2018, https://wildaboututah.org/joshs-raven-encounter/

Kolowski, Joseph, Outdoor Experiences in High-Def, Wild About Utah, June 10, 2024, https://wildaboututah.org/outdoor-experiences-in-high-def/

Boling, Josh, The Language of Ravens, Wild About Utah, February 19, 2018, https://wildaboututah.org/language-of-ravens/

How to Tell Crows and Ravens Apart by Sight and Sound, All About Birds, Oct 22, 2024, https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/similar-species-crows-and-ravens/

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Working sheep dogs are a joy to watch

Ewe with a lamb, Likely a Border Cheviot Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
Ewe with a lamb, Likely a Border Cheviot
Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
I just got back from a voyage across the North Sea and couldn’t wait to tell everyone about the stunning landscape – Huge blocks of black basalt rock rising out of the sea. No trees in sight. But always a scattering of sheep grazing wherever grass has been able to grow. It being Spring, there were also quite a few baby lambs that seemed to prefer bouncing to walking.

Once, when our ship dropped anchor, a local hiking guide offered to show us how he and his Border Collie worked together to gather the scattered sheep and bring them down to his farm in the fall. He gave the dog a command in Finnish and the dog raced up the hill away from us. Another command and the dog stopped immediately and lay down. More commands – and the dog did it all. It was very impressive. Best of all, the dog seemed to be really enjoying the work-out.

Now, here in northern Utah we don’t get to see very many sheep grazing on our hillsides. But we can see plenty of working sheep dogs at the International Sheep Dog Competition held every Memorial Day at Soldier Hollow outside Midway, Utah.

It’s been going on for years, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I checked this year’s program and was delighted to see that one of the teams came from Cache Valley. Some of the dogs come from as far away as New Zealand, South Africa, and Scotland.

After three days of qualifying rounds, the top dogs were ready to go.

The first handler and their dog step up to the starting post. The big red digital clock started the countdown from 45 minutes. The dog is sent racing and over the hill where 10 sheep are waiting. These are not your ordinary farm sheep, but big rangy sheep brought in from the desert. They’ve never been herded before. The dog circles around behind the sheep. By now the handler is blowing his whistle and shouting as the dog maneuvers the sheep through a gate and back down to the starting post.

The next step is a return trip up the hill to bring back 10 more burly sheep, These sheep are all wearing bright red collars. The real excitement begins for me when all 20 sheep are standing inside a large circle marked out on the grass. The handler and the dog now enter the circle with the sheep. Their job is to separate 5 of the red-collared sheep and keep them inside the circle – while pushing all the other sheep out.

The sheep do not want to be separated. By now the handler is mostly shouting “Lie down!” Too much pressure from the dog and ALL the sheep will bolt out of the circle. Meanwhile, the big red digital clock is ticking down. I find myself holding my breath.

For many teams, the clock runs out.

The ones that are successful now move on to the final challenge. They must move the 5 red-collared sheep into a very small pen with an even smaller tiny gate. Often the dog will lock eyes in a stare down with a burly stubborn sheep. It’s another cliff-hanger.

Win or lose, these hard working sheep dogs are a joy to watch.

You might want to join me at Soldier Hollow next Memorial Day, come rain or shine.

This is Mary Heers and I’m Wild About Utah

Credits:

Images Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Courtesy & Copyright © Anderson, Howe, Wakeman
Text: Mary Heers, https://cca.usu.edu/files/awards/art-and-mary-heers-citation.pdf
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Mary Heers

Soldier Hollow Classic Sheepdog Championship & Festival, https://soldierhollowclassic.com/

The History of the Soldier Hollow Classic with Mark Peterson, Soldier Hollow Classic Sheepdog Championship, 2025, https://yout-ube.com/watch?v=OqtiBsMLTPY

Please Sheep Go in the Pen, Soldier Hollow Classic Sheepdog Championship, 2025, https://yout-ube.com/watch?v=BwF-BqzB4mY

Sheep Dog Guiding Sheep into Pen at Soldier Hollow Classic Sheep Dog Championship & Festival, Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer, https://yout-ube.com/watch?v=60P7itSOl8g

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A Washington County Big Day

Roadrunner in a Tree, Courtesy Pixabay, Mike-RJA1988 Contributor
Roadrunner in a Tree
Courtesy Pixabay, Mike-RJA1988 Contributor
As dawn breaks, I find myself with a fellow birder at Lytle Ranch on the Beaver Dam slope, elevation approximately 2000 feet. With the binoculars and cell phones, birding apps in hand, we begin our search. By nightfall, we will be at Kolob Reservoir elevation, a bit over 8000 feet.

Lytle Ranch Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer
Lytle Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

Courtesy & Hell-Hole Canyon in the Rain Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer Courtesy & Hell-Hole Canyon in the Rain
Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

Birding Students from UTU Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer Birding Students from UTU
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

My Family Birding Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer My Family Birding
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

Fishhook Cactus Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer Fishhook Cactus
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

Ephemeral Pool Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer Ephemeral Pool
Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

Marshall Birding Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer Marshall Birding
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

Our list of birds observed for the day will exceed 100 different species. This day, we will have passed through numerous life zones, beginning in the Sonoran life zone of the Mojave Desert and ending up in the alpine forests of the Canadian life zone.

In birder’s language, we call this a big day.

There are 924 bird species known to be in the United States. The average county in Utah has approximately 295 species, but Washington County, Utah, boasts 400 species.

The incredible diversity of bird life is due to several factors. Probably the most important is the convergence of three different geophysical features. The Great Basin Desert invades Washington County from the north, the Mojave Desert from the south, and the Colorado Plateau comes in from the east. Each different geophysical feature brings with it its own distinct complement of plants and animals, and therefore birds. In addition to the merging of geophysical features, Washington County is incredibly diverse topography. The elevation changes from 2000 feet to over 10,000 feet at the top of Pine Mountain, which locals refer to as Pine Valley Mountain.

The numerous different life zones provide opportunity to observe many different species of birds. Erosion has also played a part in the diversity of life here. What was once the bottom of washes that filled with magma from ancient volcanoes are now the tops of ridges capped with basalt or lava. This inverse topography is not common elsewhere in a state, and it provides unique microhabitats, such as north-south slopes, which retain different amounts of moisture due to their orientation to the winter sun. The difference in soil moisture content produces different plants and attracts different birds.

There is also the fact that we are near the convergence of two different migration flight ways, the Pacific Flyway on the west and the central flyway to the east. Birds from both these flyways can find their way into the county.

Soil types should also be included in the list, from basalt to sandstone and limestone, and various different soils found in the area contribute to the diversity of plant life, and therefore bird life, as well. Sandstone is known to create both ephemeral pools after rainstorms on the surface and absorb water like a sponge, which slowly leaks out at the base, creating life-sustaining water seeps.

Surprisingly, Utah ranks only 45th out of 50 states in the United States with regard to the number of people who consider themselves birders. The national average is 24% but in Utah, only 11% think that they would qualify. This is a bit unfortunate, because research has shown birding to have tremendous advantages for human physical and cognitive health. Committed bird watchers have detectable brain differences that suggest bird watching reshapes the brain in much the same way as learning a language or a musical instrument does. Three combined studies in the UK have shown bird watching to be a remedy for stress, anxiety, and depression. Becoming a birder physically reshapes your brain. Considerable research shows that learning and practicing bird identification increases the structural density and complexity in brain regions tied to physical processing, attention, and working memory. These changes help build a cognitive buffer that protects against age-related memory decline.

Perhaps Terry Tempest Williams put it best: “Birds are wherever we are. They are our companions. Birds are mediators between heaven and earth.”

This is Professor Marshall Topham from Utah Tech University. I’m wild about Utah.

Credits:

Images Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer
Also included photos Courtesy US BLM: https://www.flickr.com/photos/blmutah/32152508267/in/album-72157667920964286/
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Bob Holmes, Composer, Hugh Jones, Producer, Rubber Rodeo-Before I Go Away, 1984, https://www.discogs.com/release/9698183-Rubber-Rodeo-Scenic-Views
Text: Marshall Topham, https://ees.utahtech.edu/faculty-staff/
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah pieces by Marshall Topham https://wildaboututah.org/author/marshall-topham/

417 Species in Washington County, Utah United States, eBird Printable Checklist, eBird.org [visited June 22, 2026] https://ebird.org/printableList?regionCode=US-UT-053

Birding in Washington County, UtahBirds.org, http://utahbirds.org/counties/washington/index.html Note, this is not a TSL-protected connection: http not https.

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Sacred Mountains and a Beautiful Spirit

Teton Range, Teton National Park, Courtesy US NPS, J Tobiason, Photographer
Teton Range, Teton National Park
Courtesy US NPS, J Tobiason, Photographer
I collapsed in a tangled heap of rope at my campsite in the Teton’s North Fork of Cascade Canyon after summiting the Grand Teton. I was alone, unprepared, but couldn’t resist the summit climb. Why would someone of normal mind risk life and limb for such a foolhardy venture? Since that climb, I’ve summited many Utah peaks and others- including Mt. Rainier and Mt. Whitney.

Road to Denali, Courtesy US NPS-Denali NP (Flickr), Tim Rains, Photographer
Road to Denali
Courtesy US NPS-Denali NP (Flickr), Tim Rains, Photographer
“I climb because it’s there.” George Mallory’s 1923 response to “Why do you wish to climb Mt. Everest?”

Robin Pendery Climbing, Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International
Robin Pendery Climbing
Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International

Robin Pendery Overlooking Mountains, Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International Robin Pendery Overlooking Mountains
Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International

Robin Pendery in Powder, Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International Robin Pendery in Powder
Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International

Robin Pendery on Skis, Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International Robin Pendery on Skis
Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International

Robin Pendery on the Mountain, Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International Robin Pendery on the Mountain
Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International

Denali West Buttress Showing Camps, Courtesy US NPS Denali West Buttress Showing Camps
Courtesy US NPS

If you were to ask this question to the late 33-year-old Robin Pendery, my former Logan High student, dear friend, and world class climber, she may have used more descriptive terms. Robin was a very bright, boundless energy student engaged in several clubs for which I was faculty advisor. Our world always brightened with Robin’s presence.

A few days ago, when I received news of Robin’s death from plunging into a crevasse on Mt. Denali, North America’s highest, I was crushed. How could someone so vibrant, so young, so skilled and giving to all who knew her, have perished? My heart immediately went out to Kim and Bruce, Robin’s parents and dear friends of many years, who proudly kept me posted on Robin’s remarkable achievements.

A torrent of condolences and memories poured in on social media. I’ll share a few.

“Robin was my guide for several climbs early in my mountaineering career and she helped shape who I am in the mountains.”
“Tough, kind, capable, and always so stoked. Giving me confidence that women not only had a place in this world but could be leaders…this is heartbreaking.”

“I can’t hold back my tears. She was the one who presented me with my Denali Pro Patch last year, and she was one of the Denali Rangers I admired and respected the most.”

I believe Robin and I climbed for many of the same reasons: physical challenge, the spiritual high in accomplishing our goal, comradery, the incomparable, exhilarating beauty of high places, breathing in the rarified high-altitude air, dancing around crevasse-riddled glaciers, experiencing unrivaled sunrise and sunset.

I spent two seasons working in Denali National Park, occasionally finding time to ride the bus to mile 80 where one could view this mountain massif reflected in Wonder Lake, but no time nor money for this very demanding climb. Mt. Rainer in Washington state is another epic mountain Robin and I share, where one of my sons missed being swept away by an avalanche.

Both mountains hold the minds and hearts of millions from afar. “Is the mountain out today?” A phrase often heard in Seattle, Washington and Anchorage, Alaska, gladdening the heart when these lofty peaks appear above the clouds.

Both are considered sacred by numerous native tribes, their words translating to “The Great One”.

Henceforth, I will never view these iconic monuments of nature the same, adding my own sacred, shrouded in our dear Robin Pendry’s beautiful spirit.

This is Jack Greene for Bridgerland Audubon Society and I’m Wild about our sacred mountains, and the beautiful spirit that resides there.

Credits:

Images: Courtesy & Copyright Alpine Ascents International, Jonathon Spitzer, Director of Operations
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections and
Anderson, Howe, and Wakeman.
Text & Voice: Jack Greene, Bridgerland Audubon, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/
Additional Reading Links: Jack Greene & Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading:

Wild About Utah Pieces by Jack Greene, https://wildaboututah.org/author/jack/

Alaska’s News Source Facebook Presence, https://www.facebook.com/AlaskasNewsSource/posts/new-a-photo-released-by-the-national-park-service-shows-robin-pendery-middle-bei/1442297047942358/ (Read some of the comments– Not the McKinley vs Denali ones, but some who knew her.)

Robin’s page with Alpine Ascents International, https://www.alpineascents.com/guides/robin-pendery/

Alaska ranger dies in crevasse fall on North America’s tallest mountain, AP News, June 5, 2026,
https://apnews.com/article/mckinley-denali-alaska-ranger-dead-mountaineering-8012e601e02f26f557a9e154191065ee

Vigdor, Neil, Park Ranger Dies After Falling Into a Crevasse on Mt. McKinley, The New York Times, June 5, 2026,
https://www.nytimes.com/2026/06/05/us/national-park-service-ranger-dead-mount-mckinley.html

Romero, Dennis, National Park mountain guide dies in fall on Mount McKinley, NBC News, June 5, 2026, https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/national-park-mountain-guide-dies-fall-mount-mckinley-rcna348749

Images include Robin with coworkers and plane to basecamp, Field Report – May 25, 2026, https://www.nps.gov/dena/blogs/field-report-may-25-2026.htm

Robin Pendery, NWAC–Northwest Avalanche Center, nwacus on Instragram, June 5, 2026, https://www.instagram.com/p/DZOUuTsgD60/

Denali Mountaineering Part 1: Planning Considerations, https://www.nps.gov/dena/planyourvisit/expeditionplanning.htm
Mountaineering: https://www.nps.gov/dena/planyourvisit/mountaineering.htm

A New Identity [and Altitude] for Denali, TERA, NASA’s Earth Observatory, https://terra.nasa.gov/news/a-new-identity-for-denali