This work details Heinrich's (A Year in the Maine Woods) research into the life of ravens. Listeners will experience awe when he encounters them in the wild and in controlled situations and will enjoy the author's discoveries along with him. Norman Dietz narrates, and it is as if the author is recounting the tales. However, the audiobook is 17 hours in length, and there is much more about how the research was conducted than what was learned. If listeners are interested in hearing about research biology, this will be the perfect title, but those looking to hear about the wonder of ravens will have to be patient. VERDICT This is a solid story for those interested in biological research but perhaps not for the casual listener. ["A fine, entertaining book for general readers, as well as an excellent resource for those seeking meticulously gathered and documented scientific information": LJ 12/99 review of the Cliff Street hc.]-Eric Albright, Tufts Univ. Health Sciences Lib., Boston © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

In a book that demonstrates the rewards of caring and careful observation of the natural world, Heinrich (Ravens in Winter, etc.), a noted biologist, Guggenheim fellow and National Book Award nominee (for Bumblebee Economics, 1979), explores the question of raven intelligence through observation, experiment and personal experience. Although he has raised many ravens through the years (beginning with a tame pair that shared his apartment at UCLA in the 1960s), Heinrich focuses much of his attention on four nestlings he adopted from the Maine woods near his home. As he describes tending to the demanding babies, chopping up roadkill, cleaning up after them and enduring their noisy calls for food, readers will marvel at how much Heinrich knows and at how much joy he derives from acquiring that knowledge. As the birds mature, Heinrich details how these and other ravens feed, nest, mate, play and establish a society with clear hierarchical levels. At its best, his writing is distinguished by infectious enthusiasm, a lighthearted style and often lyrical descriptions of the natural world. His powers of observation are impressive and his descriptionsÄof how a raven puffs its feathers in a dominance display, of how a female calls for food from her mate, of the pecking order at a carcassÄare formidably precise. Toward the end of the book, Heinrich addresses the question implied by the title: To what degree can ravens be said to think? His answer: "I suspect that the great gulf or discontinuity that exists between us and all other animals is... ultimately less a matter of consciousness than of culture." Illustrations. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

The common raven, Corvus corax, is the world's largest crow, measuring from 22 to 27 inches long, and it can be found in much of North America. Heinrich, a University of Vermont biologist and illustrator, is the author of The Trees in My Forest, a homage to the rhythms of life in his 300-acre Maine forest, and Ravens in Winter. He has studied ravens at his Vermont home, at his Maine cabin, and as far away as the Arctic. Here, he writes about this highly intelligent bird's fascinating behavior, the result of his observations, experiments, and experiences (including raising young ravens to adulthood, giving them such names as Fuzz and Houdi). This is not a scholarly work but rather a fond tribute to these feathered creatures. --George Cohen

Still wild about ravens after all these years, award-winning zoologist Heinrich (Univ. of Vermont; The Trees in My Forest, 1997, etc.) continues his investigations into the big crow's behavior. What makes ravens tick, or, if you prefer, quork? What fires their love of baubles, their delight in tomfoolery? Why have so many cultures portrayed the birds as creators and destroyers, prophets and clowns and tricksters? Are they sentient? Do they scheme? To what use do they put that sizable brain? Heinrich has shared a lot of forest time with ravens over the years, trying to gain perspective on these questions. He has come away with an admittedly incomplete if anecdotally rich picture of the bird, one that bears up the historical image of a canny creature that trumps our expectations. Here is a bird that willingly incubates eggs that are obviously not its own, the smart guy falling for the oldest parasitic trick in the book. Yet here is also a bird that can sit down at the table, to a nicely fatted calf, say, with wolves and golden eagles, animals that are known to serve raven when the calves are scarce. Heinrich freely shares the glimmerings of real understanding he has made'much the same way as ravens share food finds (in apparent, and typical, anti-evolutionary spirit)'including the exploratory/carnal fixation the raven has with bijouterie, and how many ravens it takes to fish the Yellowstone River for cutthroat. But when it comes to measuring the ravens' intelligence, Heinrich suggests it would be folly to do so in human terms: We are, in effect, culturally incomparable, and for all the seeming pleasure we take in one another's company, how the bird goes about interpreting the world remains closed to us, enigmatic and contradictory as ever. Left unsaid in this learned study is how many hours Heinrich sat motionless in the deep-space cold of a Maine winter to gather these observations. There lies the gauge of his enterprise, understanding, and passion. (illustrations, not seen)