From the Garden of Peeves

As I garden in the ideas and reactions of my experiences, I find set off and frequently cultivated a small plot of pet peeves. While among these today, I picked a particularly pampered and lush one to talk about.

The English Sparrow is a species first introduced to America in the 19th century. Like most alien species, either plant or animal, it has prospered at the expense of native species. These particular birds have quite nasty habits and will steal a cavity nest from native birds like swallows and bluebirds and, if necessary, not hesitate to kill the existing nestlings. I've seen them do it.

Now these birds are a particular peeve of mine, because we inadvertently encourage them when we erect beautiful birdhouses like the one pictured here. Though we imagine the new multi-cavity house will result in purple martins or tree swallows, the great majority of the time it is occupied by these English sparrows that might more descriptively be called flying rats.

These are birds that all city dwellers know extremely well. In places where only pigeons can also survive, they prosper. They are attracted by the dwellings of people and love crowded settings. I suppose because they can be an inner city child's only contact with the sparrow species, or with any birds other than pigeons, they must be given some credit; but in the suburbs where melodious birds with the attractions of more civil habits, great beauty, and the desire and ability to devour great quantities of mosquitoes exist and nest, these English sparrows should be discouraged.

A few years ago, before neighbors began attracting these pests with offered housing, there were swallows and bluebirds nesting in the yard. Now, however, as these sparrows do not tolerate other cavity nesters in their vicinity, any of these more desirable birds are quickly driven away whenever they stop to attempt to nest.

As I walked around the school that I teach at today, I saw that the perennial barn swallows had returned and were once again building mud nests beneath the eves of the building. I also noticed there was an unusual commotion and lots of angry chattering going on. As I got closer I saw that an English sparrow had commandeered a mud nest from a mated pair of swallows and was proudly crowing from the entrance in the annoying chirp that is the limit of its song, refusing to allow the rightful owners to return. I'll be watching in the days to come to see if this sparrow actually nests in the mud house. If she does I'll use the frustration and annoyance she generates within me to cultivate a prize crop of peeves like this one.