This article first appeared on page 19 of Birdwatching Magazine August 2024
Feral Pigeons drive Hawkeye nuts. They arrive in the garden en masse and by sheer numbers and dogged doziness oust their betters from on, at and around the feeders. A flock of twenty or so white ones, brown ones and mock Rock Doves, taunt her from a neighbour’s roof, waiting for her to let her guard down. Then they slip into the yard, gliding down from the roof above my study window. Bully boy Starlings also get her ire ignited as they empty the suet feeder in seeming seconds while her ‘lads’, our loyal bunch of House Sparrows, barely manage a kamikaze beak-full, dodging Starling aggression. Collar Doves are classed as ‘OK’ and allowed to neck whatever is scattered under the feeders by the marauders. We are divided on big fat Woodpigeons. I enjoy their presence and appreciate their beauty, Mrs Grumpy waves them away when I’m distracted. Were we ever that lucky, we would both welcome the purring perfection of diminutive Turtle Doves into the yard.
Is this an in-built reaction, or birders’ prejudice?
I was watching the Players Championship on TV, beamed from the Florida coast. I have, for years combined overseas golf coverage with armchair ‘ticking’, trying to ID any birds that sing in the background or fly by the greens. An annoying four note call eluded my pathetic song ID skills, but I ticked Grackle and a bunch of obliging Brown Pelicans sat next to the water on the edge of a green oblivious to the competing golfers just feet away. One Scottish and one US presenter were chatting. A Grey Heron wandered by a water hazard… “What a handsome fellow” opined the Scot. “Are you losing it?” asked his US colleague, “That’s one ugly critter”.
They say beauty is in the eye off the beholder and this exchange certainly supported that contention, but I’d go further. As a culture we have some deeply embedded notions of beauty and appropriateness. David Attenborough’s shows used to evoke lots of correspondence when it moved away from Hollywood and picaresque notions of nature and showed the blood and guts of real lion kills. Some people preferred the delusion of biblical lions laying down with lambs, not tearing them limb from limb.
Every birder is pierced by the horns of this dilemma each time the local Sparrowhawk whips though the garden and snatches cock Robin from the feeder, or a Great-spotted Woodpecker empties your birdbox of a Blue Tit Brood. Glorious predator eats innocent passerine. You love both and it’s nature personified, but sometimes it’s harder to swallow than a flatfish in a Cormorant’s neck.
We cannot help having favourites. Is there a birder anywhere who doesn’t love Kingfishers? While many cultures fear and hate owls, they are right near the top of birder’s love lists. But, just like having bogey birds that elude us, there are a few avians we dismiss as unworthy, or annoying.
Somewhere on the net is a YouTube snippet called ‘Fanned by the wings of angels’. It shows yours truly sheltering from the rain in Panama’s Pipeline Road. I’m totally enthralled by half a dozen species of hummingbird visiting the feeders. After that clip, in life there was a flash and there was one less White-necked Jacobin at the feeder. Our guide swiftly focussed my scope on a treetop and waved me over. Writ large by the lenses was a gem, a Tiny Hawk, living up to its name. Its diminutive beak and claws were plucking that Jacobin’s feathers, and tearing off strips for breakfast. I still loved the hummer but loved the hawk too.
