Backyard and Beyond

The European Starling, rather vulgarly branded by the taxonomists as Sturnus vulgaris, was introduced to New York because some idiot wanted to see all of Shakespeare’s birds in the New World. Cf. “I’ll have a starling shall be taught to speak/Nothing but ‘Mortimer,’ and give it him/To keep his anger still in motion.” ~ Hotspur, First Henry IV, playing on the mimicry characteristic of the species. Highly adaptable, the species has spread across the continent. They are in the city year-around. You’ve probably seen them scavenging chicken bones (the cannibals!) on the sidewalk. They nest in cavities, and will take over the cavities dug by woodpeckers, as well as the birdhouses intended for bluebirds and other native species. This is what makes them invasive, because they put yet another pressure on other species already hard pressed by habitat destruction, pollution, climate change. I’ve seen them mob up on woodpeckers, who put a lot of work into digging out a nest, and chase them away. So imagine my surprise when I noticed this:and at the base of the London planetree:This bird was flinging out chunks of wood left and right and all around the town. It was woodpeckering, tackling the rotten wood of that hole as it excavated its own nest. In this next shot, it’s even posing a bit like a woodpecker:Some things to know about Starlings: their beaks are yellow only during breeding season, being blackish the rest of the year. Their non-breeding plumage shows many white marks, as here, for this individual has yet to take on the glossy, greenish-purplish black of full breeding plumage. In the air, they look like no other bird with their triangular wings and short square tail. In some regions, they mass in the tens of thousands, darkening the sky like clouds. They can make a great range of sounds, including what sounds just like the classic “wolf-whistle.” And yes, you probably could train one to squawk “Revolted Mortimer!” Also, they are fighters.

The House Sparrow, Passer domesticus, is an Old World sparrow unrelated to the numerous species of New World sparrows. The bird has spread around the world to general urban ubiquity; they were introduced to North America — among other places, they were let loose right here in New York City in the 1880s — initially with the hope that they would eat pest insects. The rest, as they say, is history.

This is one of those species that lives in virtual symbiosis with humans; its very name suggests its familiarity with us, and our houses. They can nest almost anywhere there is a cavity; they are not above ousting or crowding out other species from cavities, which makes them a problem; where there are no cavities, they will build their own, weaving great big balls of material in trees (I’ve sometimes run across these in Central Park).

On our NYC streets, the lamp posts that support stop lights have a hollow tube near the top of the pole that supports the wire-like beams triangulating the light. I doubt the designer of this structure realized how readily these would be taken up for House Sparrow nests. In fact, there are usually separate nests at each end of the tubes. This time of year, it’s hard to find one of these tubes that doesn’t have a male sparrow in it or near it, vocally advertising his location and all around dapper looks. Plenty already are active nests. Note the metal beam that goes through this about three inches in. These seems to prevent the much larger European Starling, another cavity nester that will dispossess other species from prime nesting cavities, from using these tubes.