I had been hoping to attract a wide variety of birds to my backyard this winter. I would have liked to see brilliant red cardinals, goldfinches galore, different species of migratory sparrows, some juncos and maybe even a Blue Jay.
I certainly had a welcome mat out. I placed seven feeders in my backyard, offering them a variety of food: millet seed, black oil sunflower seed, shelled sunflower, shelled peanuts, safflower seed, Nyjer seed and suet. I even gave the squirrels their own dedicated food source so they wouldn't trouble the birds.
The neighborhood has been blanketed by snow for the past three weeks, and natural sources of food are growing scarcer as the days go by. I felt sorry for the birds' plight.
But then the House Sparrows moved in. They are small but aggressive birds, and they chased away the finches and just about everything else that moved. They did tolerate an occasional White-throated Sparrow (actually three of them, and only for awhile) and a few Dark-eyed Juncos, which is a sparrow species.
I enjoy the juncos. We call them "snow birds." They visit our area only during the winter. Their coloration even resembles winter: their tops are a slate gray, much as the dreary winter sky, and their bottoms are white, a reminder of winter's snow. They are very polite birds. Once the weather warms, they will return to their native Canada to breed.
But Northern Cardinals? Maybe one every third day. Blue Jays? None. House Finches? Totally absent. Goldfinches? Gone, even though had I set aside fresh Nyjer seed specifically for them.
Even the Black-capped Chickadees were less numerous than they were in summer. They're my favorite bird. Their song is beautiful and their foraging habit is amusing: They'll pick up a seed and then fly, in a gently undulating pattern, to a branch. There they'll crack open the seed and eat. They don't mind the presence of humans. In fact, I've seen photos of chickadees eating out of a person's hand.
A Downy Woodpecker was a frequent visitor to my backyard in the summer. I placed a suet feeder specifically for him (or her). The woodpecker was always present. A nice thing about the woodpecker is that it is so busy pecking at the suet that it doesn't care if I walk past it. Now, nothing.
I have no one to blame but myself. I felt sorry for the birds this winter. I presented the widest variety of seed in the expectation that they surely would find something they liked. All that I did was to bring House Sparrows in droves. I also attracted equally aggressive European Starlings.
I hadn't been bothered with either of those species in my backyard last summer. I think the trick was offering only safflower seed. No millet. No sunflower. No peanuts. House Sparrows and starlings usually don't eat safflower seed.
The House Sparrows devour the white millet; I have to refill the feeder once or twice a day to satisfy their demands. One day I counted 24 House Sparrows competing for four seed ports on a 15-inch-long feeder. The starlings love the split peanuts designed for that feeder.
Anytime I look out the window I'm sure to see at least a half a dozen House Sparrows and a couple of starlings.
Now I'm worried about those two species becoming accustomed to my backyard. I'm especially concerned about them taking over my birdhouses, leaving other cavity-nesting birds with no place to raise their families.
I have to crack down. As soon as my 5-pound bag of millet runs out, that's it for the sparrows. I don't care if they have a hard time finding food elsewhere. They brought this on themselves. The peanuts will go to the squirrels, which are regulars in my backyard anyway. I'll rely exclusively on safflower seed, which cardinals, chickadees and House Finches enjoy. I'll retain the Nyjer seed for the goldfinches and the suet feeder for the woodpeckers.
House Sparrows can be welcome to the ears, especially when dozens of them congregate in a hedge each afternoon to chirp loudly for about an hour. But I can't stand the loud squawking of starlings.
Neither species belongs here. They are immigrants to North America. They are invasive birds that were deliberately introduced by well-meaning people. They push other species out.
In the 1890s Shakespeare enthusiasts introduced starlings to the United States so as to have all the bird speciess that were mentioned in the playwright's works. The bard's fans released 100 starlings in New York City's Central Park. The population took off and the birds are now found throughout North America, to the tune of an estimated 200 million birds. Locally our Audubon Society's bird count spotted more starlings in the area than any other bird except crows.
House Sparrows also were brought from England at about the same era. (They also are known as English Sparrows from their original habitat.) They, too, became prolific. They soon spread throughout every reach of North America, with the exception of Alaska and the sub-Arctic regions of Canada. They aggressively compete with native cavity-nesting birds. They will kill adult birds, nestlings and eggs of other species in order to take over a birdhouse or a cavity in a tree.
European Starlings and House Sparrows are the ecological equivalent of Burmese pythons, zebra mussels and purple loosestrife. They take over, displacing native species and even creating problems for humans. The best we can hope for is that they'll self-deport, as Mitt Romney once suggested in another context.
So I regret being so welcoming to all sorts of birds this winter. My kindness has been repaid by foul, nasty creatures that would be better off absent. Birds have taught me that it doesn't always pay to be a nice guy.
 |
| Male House Sparrow, pushy at feeders |
The neighborhood has been blanketed by snow for the past three weeks, and natural sources of food are growing scarcer as the days go by. I felt sorry for the birds' plight.
But then the House Sparrows moved in. They are small but aggressive birds, and they chased away the finches and just about everything else that moved. They did tolerate an occasional White-throated Sparrow (actually three of them, and only for awhile) and a few Dark-eyed Juncos, which is a sparrow species.
 |
| Dark-eyed Junco, the "snow bird" |
But Northern Cardinals? Maybe one every third day. Blue Jays? None. House Finches? Totally absent. Goldfinches? Gone, even though had I set aside fresh Nyjer seed specifically for them.
Even the Black-capped Chickadees were less numerous than they were in summer. They're my favorite bird. Their song is beautiful and their foraging habit is amusing: They'll pick up a seed and then fly, in a gently undulating pattern, to a branch. There they'll crack open the seed and eat. They don't mind the presence of humans. In fact, I've seen photos of chickadees eating out of a person's hand.
 |
| Downy Woodpecker, a splendid bird |
I have no one to blame but myself. I felt sorry for the birds this winter. I presented the widest variety of seed in the expectation that they surely would find something they liked. All that I did was to bring House Sparrows in droves. I also attracted equally aggressive European Starlings.
I hadn't been bothered with either of those species in my backyard last summer. I think the trick was offering only safflower seed. No millet. No sunflower. No peanuts. House Sparrows and starlings usually don't eat safflower seed.
The House Sparrows devour the white millet; I have to refill the feeder once or twice a day to satisfy their demands. One day I counted 24 House Sparrows competing for four seed ports on a 15-inch-long feeder. The starlings love the split peanuts designed for that feeder.
 |
| My favorite: the Black-capped Chickadee |
Now I'm worried about those two species becoming accustomed to my backyard. I'm especially concerned about them taking over my birdhouses, leaving other cavity-nesting birds with no place to raise their families.
I have to crack down. As soon as my 5-pound bag of millet runs out, that's it for the sparrows. I don't care if they have a hard time finding food elsewhere. They brought this on themselves. The peanuts will go to the squirrels, which are regulars in my backyard anyway. I'll rely exclusively on safflower seed, which cardinals, chickadees and House Finches enjoy. I'll retain the Nyjer seed for the goldfinches and the suet feeder for the woodpeckers.
 |
| European Starling: no redeeming value |
House Sparrows can be welcome to the ears, especially when dozens of them congregate in a hedge each afternoon to chirp loudly for about an hour. But I can't stand the loud squawking of starlings.
Neither species belongs here. They are immigrants to North America. They are invasive birds that were deliberately introduced by well-meaning people. They push other species out.
In the 1890s Shakespeare enthusiasts introduced starlings to the United States so as to have all the bird speciess that were mentioned in the playwright's works. The bard's fans released 100 starlings in New York City's Central Park. The population took off and the birds are now found throughout North America, to the tune of an estimated 200 million birds. Locally our Audubon Society's bird count spotted more starlings in the area than any other bird except crows.
 |
| Who doesn't love a Northern Cardinal? |
European Starlings and House Sparrows are the ecological equivalent of Burmese pythons, zebra mussels and purple loosestrife. They take over, displacing native species and even creating problems for humans. The best we can hope for is that they'll self-deport, as Mitt Romney once suggested in another context.
So I regret being so welcoming to all sorts of birds this winter. My kindness has been repaid by foul, nasty creatures that would be better off absent. Birds have taught me that it doesn't always pay to be a nice guy.