covey

American  

[kuhv-ee] / ˈkʌv i /

noun

plural

coveys

1. a brood or small flock of partridges or similar birds.

2. a group, set, or company.

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covey British  

/ ˈkʌvɪ /

noun

1. a small flock of grouse or partridge

2. a small group, as of people

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Etymology

Origin of covey

First recorded in 1400–50; Middle English, variant of covee, from Anglo-French, Old French, noun use of feminine of past participle of cover “to hatch,” from Latin cubāre “to lie down”; couvade, concubine

Explanation

A covey is a social group of birds. You can also use it for a group of people, like the covey of kids that hangs out on the playground after school. The roots of covey go back to the Latin cubare, "incubate or hatch." The word was originally used for a brood of newly-hatched partridges or other similar birds. Today it can refer to one family group, like a mother pigeon and her chicks, or a flock that hangs out together. Feel free to describe other groups using this word, like the covey of tourists walking slowly down the sidewalk with their map as the locals dodge past them.

Example Sentences

One surprise in his black art exhibition was the inclusion of “Virginian Partridge,” a dramatic 1830 John James Audubon graphic showing a fierce red hawk going after a covey of fluttering quail.

From Los Angeles Times • Apr. 7, 2020

Sarris began his Village Voice review with a dig: “A covey of high-flying, high-sounding critics have managed to save ‘Pretty Poison’ from a fate worse than death in the fleshpots of 42nd Street.”

From New York Times • Sep. 28, 2018

From businesses, governments and organisations, a scripted response will fail to resonate as it will not covey empathy and compassion.

From BBC • Jan. 18, 2018

Out flew Secret Service agents and a covey of aides, all unavoidably inflated with the adrenaline-rush self-importance of big-time campaigning, and then from behind the tinted glass came Hillary Clinton.

From Washington Post • Mar. 17, 2016

Dane finally arrives and sits on a nearby swooping oak branch rather than join the covey of boulders we sit on.

From "The Adoration of Jenna Fox" by Mary E. Pearson