Parable of the Hawk and the Bird About 10 years ago, I wanted to help the wildlife situation here in Napa and decided that I could do something to help the most vulnerable. I went down and bought a masonry birdbath, not to put water in, but birdseeds for the little wrens and sparrows. I know these are probably the most at risk of hunger and could really use my help in feeding their young, preparing for migration, etc. Every couple of weeks I would go to the feedstore, pick up a 60lb bag, and keep the feeder well stocked with nutritious seeds. This feeding program seemed to be appreciated by the birds because my back yard started to fill up with these cute little guys. I would spend hours watching them jostling and positioning themselves for the best spot even though the feeder was round and the best spot always seemed to right where another little bird was standing. Occasionally I would see a parakeet or two eating from the feeder and I figured that some poor kid had the bird out and someone opened the front door. They always looked a little haggard and hungry, no telling how long they had been loose before they discovered this food source. However, I also noticed that after a week or so these wayward little parakeets started to look better, their plumage improved and they would return often so they were staying in the area and keeping close to this abundant food. This was all working out well and I felt very good about myself, after all, I was providing everything in the way of nutrition for these little birds and the enjoyment of seeing these little creatures multiply and flourish always seemed worth the increasing cost of seeds. Just watching the pugnacious little parakeets hold their own against the wild birds was worth the price of admission, it is just a shame that they never seemed able to return the next season; predation or the cold winters here was the cause I guessed. Like any good thing this utopian microhabitat was not meant to last, I started seeing blackbirds showing up in greater numbers, and eating into the volume of food needed to maintain full feeders so everyone could eat each day. It started with just a few birds but before long, these blackbirds were coming in swarms. I don’t know how so many found my little back yard, it was like they had cell phones and GPS tagging my house. This created a dilemma for me. I had created this feeding program to target a certain segment of the local bird population, but now found that the program had swelled well beyond initial expectations and costs because of all these interloping blackbirds. I decided that I needed to revaluate this program and determine what I could do to bring costs and overhead back to a reasonable level. I was facing only a few possible actions: On the fiscal side, I could just stop buying seeds, put water in the birdbath, and let everyone go back to looking for their own food sources in the wild habitat. I would just have to sacrifice the joy I received in knowing I was a positive force in helping nature’s smallest birds and thus the most deserving of my help. The other side of this equation was the ethical reality that I had actually become the problem. These birds had not asked for my help, not even the blackbirds, they were living their lives just fine without my assistance. Plus from my observations over these ten years they never associated me with the endless supply of abundant food; they still fled in fear whenever I came near, even when I was bringing more food. I had artificially created a sub-habitat for these birds that gave them a false sense of security and the nutritional support that allowed them to raise bigger broods of which more chicks survived, so their numbers increased. If I suddenly stopped this feeding program, many of these birds would soon die because the available food in nature had not gone up; they could only do so much to acquire needed nutrition but competition for the finite food supply had dramatically risen. Therefore, the only moral path I could take was to make sure I had enough seeds for sparrows and blackbirds alike; all the money would just be an ongoing expenditure that I could carry forward in my budget. Then about five years ago, we started seeing doves coming to the feeder. It was an interesting first as it appeared to be a mated pair and I thought they would probably not hang around long, and I loved seeing how they interacted with each other. Over these years, I have seen these two doves grow to a flock of a dozen or so and I felt very good about it. However, I started looking closely at these doves markings and noted that these were not native mourning doves, but ring-necked doves from Eastern and Southern Africa. This was awesome to see these beautiful birds and it excited me very much, but at the same time, it dawned on me then that I was feeding illegal non-native birds along with everything else I wanted to feed. One could easily imagine that the one birdbath was now entirely too small to feed a hundred sparrows, a seemingly unlimited number of blackbirds and a dozen very big and well fed doves. This led to nearly constant squabbling between these birds with the doves pushing everyone out because of their size, the blackbirds pushing everyone out due to their sheer numbers and the real losers were the little wrens and sparrows for whom this whole program was conceived to benefit. The only way to address this was to add another feeding station in the hopes that while everyone was fighting at the birdbath the sparrows could go to that other site and get some food. Surprisingly this actually worked to a large degree even though I was spending more on seeds than ever before, but everyone seemed to be getting a share of the food and doing well. At this point, I am thinking everything is pretty well dialed in and humming right along. I had multiple feeders separated to reduce fighting, and I was again enjoying the antics of my little friends. One day as I sat and watched all the birds outside my window there was a huge commotion in my neighbor’s tree and all the birds panicked and flew for their lives. I couldn’t see what was going on, but shortly a large Harrier Hawk lands on the roof of my storage shed. To say I was shocked is inadequate, it was more like transfixed; this magnificent bird was less than 15 feet away and looking right at me with such intensity I was hesitant to move. He moved across the shed roof in that classic hopping, bouncing walk birds of prey have and effortlessly descended to the birdbath with all the birdseed. I could see that he was not just hanging out at my house; he was intently looking at the birdbath and moving about the areas the birds I was feeding frequented. First the secondary feeders, then the bushes and plants and finally thoroughly investigating the honeysuckle where the little house wrens hide. He moved about the whole yard in a very cool and methodical way, I could see that he was intently smelling all these places and envisioned him thinking “There be birds here” in some Sean Connery DragonSlayer voice. This bird was on a scouting mission and my yard was now on his list of “must do” restaurants. I have never seen a large bird of prey so comfortable with people being so close so I went outside and he simply flapped his wings one time and was sitting high in my tree staring at me. There was no fear in his eyes and he was quite comfortable with my presence, and cared not that I was only 10 feet away. I found myself respecting him a great deal. Then he got bored and decided to leave, but I think the birds and I knew he still is out there. Later as I sat reflecting on this, it occurred to me that I am enamored with this big attractive hawk even though he will potentially destroy my bird-feeding program. Everything was as it had been, but now there was this ominous dark shadow over my back yard. I mean that literally, the hawk now patrolled numerous times a day and his shadow crisscrossed the yard every time. As the days went on, I started to notice that the flock of doves was decreasing in number, what had been a dozen birds was now reduced to nine. I could not tell if the blackbirds or sparrows had any reduction in number there are just too many of them, but I don’t think a large hawk would even bother with such small hard to catch meals. This created another dilemma for me: This feeding program was conceived on a shoestring budget and pursued in the interest of helping the smallest and most vulnerable of the birds in my area. however, it has grown in scope to include more and more participants and consuming more and more of my resources; and now this apex predator shows up and is the ultimate benefiter. My inclination was to do what we did at the ranch when I was a kid; when a hawk or fox made the mistake of taking one too many chickens, we simply went out and shot the offending animal; problem solved. Now days shooting birds of prey is almost universally banned in the US, so that easy 100% effective option is off the table because the hawk is protected; he is here to stay and his progeny will be fed from the birds I helped raise. I was now working for the hawk. It is very much like any government program; I am the taxpayer providing the funds that provides the services that a multitude has become comfortable in receiving. To make it worse while the original programs targeted group is fighting for chicken feed the government is eating squab.
Posted on: Thu, 31 Oct 2013 20:48:44 +0000
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