Where have all the sparrows gone?
Or have they really gone anywhere?
I begin by thanking the gentleman from New Zealand for bringing up
this subject again. It is pleasing to note that some of us, without
being overwhelmed by the hectic man-made race of day-to-day living,
still have time and concern to touch on such insignificant looking
subjects - the simple little marvels of creation.
Actually it would not be very correct to assume that Asian house
sparrow (Passer Domesticus) of the old world sparrow family, migrated
Down Under. The sparrow lived in most of Europe and much of Asia.
It has followed humans all over the world and has been intentionally
or accidentally introduced to most of the Americas, sub-Saharan Africa,
Australia (including New Zealand) as well as urban areas in other parts
of the world.
In fact its introduction to the Sates was a deliberate act - a pest
control measure between 1850 and 1875, where it is recorded that around
150 pairs were introduced and protected.
So, the good old sparrow has been a Sri Lankan bird for all intents
and purposes, though not endemic to Sri Lanka.
It is still very much with us in Sri Lanka. Even last time round when
this subject came up for discussion in this forum, our legitimate
concern was that sparrows were not to be seen in great numbers they used
to some years or decades ago. But is it true?
The sparrow is not at all an endangered species. In fact you would
find it under LC (least concerned) status in the ICUN conservation
status list.
Its propagation has reached threatening proportions, it’s being
trapped and killed in some States in the US for being a pest,
endangering the propagation of endemic song birds such as Bluebirds,
Sand Martins, House Martins, and Purple Martins etc. Contrary to popular
belief, house sparrow is not a tamed or semi-domesticated bird. It
actually remains wary of man. It depends on man for food and home and
not companionship.
Having stated that, I admit that surely it is a rare bird amongst our
households in Sri Lanka, despite the popular belief. We would love to
have them nesting in the clay pots, cardboard or wooden boxes we have
fixed on our walls, showering us with that incessant chirpy “Phillip,
Phillip” note.
It was my childhood dream to have them occupy the white spotted black
clay pot (a discarded “Walanda or Muttiya”) hung on the wall by a nail
in my house isolated by other houses by a fair distance, as was the case
around four decades ago.
There was only one pair of sparrows in our neighbourhood then, which
too was nesting on a fluorescent light fitting of my neighbours.
However, once in a while they would visit our pot, perched on the top
of it, peeped into it and even ventured into it, which raised my pulse
rate with the expectation that they were about to move into my pot.
I used to even put dhal, green gram and rice into the pot, believing
that it would be an inducement for them to prefer our arrangement to the
very uncomfortable and unsteady fluorescent fitting of our neighbours.
But it was not to be, they have their own ways, and I was
heartbroken. Instead a pair of magpies (polkichcha) occupied it and
lived for a long time. I am passed fifty now, and believe me still I
have over 4 pots, brand new ones, unlike the smoked black one we had
those days, hanging in very carefully chosen places, still in
expectation of the arrival of those little marvels. I even discourage
squirrel and magpies in their attempts to occupy them, as I meant them
for the little sparrow and nothing but the sparrow.
When I built my own house in a suburb around 20 years ago, where a
few dozens more houses too were built at the same time, this being an
auctioned land in an exclusive residential area, a flock of over 100
sparrows swarmed our newly built and being built houses.
To my dismay, they were here there and everywhere, spending nights
under rafters, building nest on hanging light fittings etc etc.
Sand bathing flock was a common sight those days. They cleaned the
worms off our Kathurumurunga trees. It was like my childhood dream has
finally come true. They finally built a house the way I always dreamt of
- in a clay pot with a nicely rounded entrance and small holes
everywhere to facilitate ventilation.
But in around a year or two, with our plots started to be filled with
newly planted trees, they were all gone, as unexpectedly and
surprisingly as they came. It looked to me that they preferred the
barren lands with concrete structures to the houses surrounded by lush
greenery.
During their occupancy of my pot, I have made some serious
observations, in addition to above, which I believe would have somewhat
contributed to the dwindling of the sparrows in our midst - or should I
say discouraged them from living in pairs in isolated places.
1) Few of the chicks hatched in the pot at my home were maimed by
entangling in synthetic fibre threads the parent sparrows have
un-purportedly used for nest building.
I saw two repeated cases where the tiny legs of chicks were bent
beyond restoration, from birth, entangled in the synthetic nesting
materials. These chicks failed in their struggle to land and perch and
could not survive outside the pot.
2) Then I saw instances where rats have attacked the pot at night and
carried away occupants for supper. I even found out, by strewn feathers
and scattered bones, where these hapless creatures had been consumed.
3) Also I have seen the magpie robin (Polkichcha) and squirrel
getting better of sparrow in their struggle for the occupancy of a
nesting place such as a pot or a box. I have read that in the European
scene, the sparrow is the aggressor, evicting rightful owners of nest,
building nests on top of existing nests even with chicks in them, and
even instances of killing other house dwelling song birds.
But locally the sparrows are in the receiving end. All these must
have definitely discouraged a potential sparrow building its nest in an
isolated location, such as a single house in a plot of land surrounded
by trees.
I have also read about the very liberal and mindless use of
pesticides and weedicides too have a bearing on the decline of the
sparrows (and many more creatures for that matter) over the years. I
have had no way of verifying this claim.
I think these observations made me wiser. I think I now can see from
the angle of the sparrow. Just like we would look for many factors when
choosing an abode, so would the sparrow, or any bird for that matter.
Our practice of placing a pot or a box in a place convenient and
where we would love to have them nesting definitely would not be always
acceptable to these creatures who too are living individuals with sense
of security.
They would definitely be looking for safety, sensing numerous dangers
that would be lurking everywhere. I am sure they are more at ease in
very busy and congested environment, such as in public markets, rest
houses (those mass rest houses in Kataragama, Anuradhapura and the like)
and housing schemes, where there is plenty of refuse and throw-aways,
where cats and rats have other morsels to feed on and better
attractions, than trying to gobble down a family of tiny sparrows; where
their common predators would not have their own way as they would in an
isolated setting like in an average home.
Finally, going back in time, not I feel that in Sri Lanka, we never
had sparrows living in great numbers, especially in and around
individual house units. True enough, we all would have had a pot or box
hanging readily for the sparrow. But how many of them were occupied by
the sparrows? Compare it with the times a pair of magpies made it their
home and lived for many years, releasing so many of their young to the
nature.
Actually, the sparrows have not left us for cooler climes. Rather
they do live in numbers in selected locations, true to their very social
behaviourial patterns. But there certainly is a decline in the odd
couple living amongst isolated/separated house units. There could be
many more contributory factors for this phenomenon, than what I have
stated above. I am sure we would hear different observations and
inferences from our readers who have been sensitive to this issue.
Gehan WIJESINGHE |