I have a birdbath. Nothing unusual there, birds come and drink, have a splash.
When I noticed a while back that there was a full slice of pizza in the birdbath I naturally assumed some idiot had thrown it there from the street. I removed it, cleaned up the oily water and bobbing bits of salami only to find another slice appearing later. This was left for a while, until a raven came to eat it. Give the ravens some credit, they have learnt to use the birdbath as a softener of hard baked goods! This is definitely recently learnt, as it never happened before, but happens every week now. Here is half a muffin.
The raven arrives.
We also get cake, half loaves of bread, a croissant or two… This is what happens when you live in the cafe district surrounded by churches. An ideal raven environment.
Meanwhile, the sparrows have to put up with baths in sometimes greasy water.
Did you know that raven youth leave home to live in gangs, before they pair up and live in more respectable ways? Well they do. Every year, gangs of feisty ravens amuse themselves by divebombing the birdbath on a hot day.