Tag: magpies

Magpie Mayhem

It’s magpie swooping season. In the past two weeks, I’ve been pecked on my head three times and my dog has had Northrop B-2 Spirit magpies stealth-bombing her from behind. Always from behind. She doesn’t move from my side now when we go near trees, and she looks up nervously at her sworn mortal enemies.

For nine months of the year, magpies are a joy in the neighbourhood. They warble in groups of two or three every morning and know us all by sight. They have excellent facial recognition, and recognise everyone in their patch, which is roughly the size of 30 suburban blocks. Magpies know exactly who is naughty or nice, and they pass on this information to other birds.

I always imagined their warble as a joyous expression of welcoming a new day or singing because they are happy. It turns out I was completely deluded. It takes a lot of energy to sing and warble, which is why most songbirds only do it when they are trying to attract a mate. Magpies, however, continue to sing each and every day and it turns out that it is purely to protect their territory. That lovely warble is hurtling expletives at other magpies within earshot. ‘Stay away or else!’

When I lived in the country, three magpies came to the bird feeder most mornings. They’d eat seeds I had put out for parrots, then throw their heads back in what I thought was appreciation and warbled. I referred to them as the three tenors. I must have watched too many Disney movies where all animals are anthropomorphised and given cutesy human traits, for it never occurred to me they were warding off other birds from their find.

Many years ago, I heard an ornithologist interviewed on ABC radio. He explained that 90% of magpies show no aggression at all and that it is only 10% of males who cause all the trouble during mating season. Tongue in cheek, he claimed Australia would be uninhabitable if all magpies swooped. After my last attack, I can only concur. Still, 10% of magpies are a sizable number. Of these aggressive males, half will attack only pedestrians and/or dogs, approximately 16% will attack only cyclists, 16% will go for posties and 18% will randomly attack anyone they come across. These figures are not made up; attacks have been extensively researched and quantified.

Magpies only ever swoop from behind and only if you are in the vicinity of a nest that has chicks in it. All attacks happen within 50 to 100m of a nest, so the sensible thing to do is to avoid the area once you’ve been swooped. When the chicks finally leave the nest, the male returns to being a placid bird until the following year. The best thing you can do in the meantime is to look at your attacker; a magpie won’t ever attack if it can see your face. The worst thing you can do is to run for your life, because then it will surely come after you. If you are on a bike, get off and walk the next 100m until you are in the clear. And yes, the cable ties on helmets work, not that it will stop the swooping, but at least it stops the frightening experience of a beak making repeated contact with the helmet.

For the next two months, I am avoiding the beautiful gums in my neighbourhood. Still, I walk the dog, greet any magpies I meet in a friendly tone and stay out of their territory. There will be time enough to enjoy a shady walk under the spotted gums once spring has passed. In the meantime, I remind myself that I am the intruder here.

Bird Song

One morning while having breakfast, I tuned in to sparrows chirping. They like hiding in an overgrown hedge out the back providing them with ample shelter. It is never one sparrow that sings but a host of them. Their simple song, made up of only a few notes, is sung mainly by the male to attract females or fend off invaders. I can’t help but smile at their incessant bright chirruping. It isn’t very loud and provides a pleasant soundscape as I sip on my cup of tea.

Soon another sound gets my attention. The blackbird’s song is one of my favourites, mainly because it reminds me of my childhood. I even named a dog after this bird. While its song varies for each verse, it always seems to start on the same mellow note. Their phrases are short and often include ‘djuk djuk’ clucks. No other birds have the same slightly melancholic effect on me.

Scientists have found that listening to bird songs is conducive to mental health. It surprises me that we need this confirmed through research. This revelation reminds me of the recent discovery of ‘silent walking’. Those brave enough to try this new trend have reported a reduction in feeling distracted. Who would have thought. It turns out that being in touch with nature is calming.

I can now hear my three tenors warble at the font of the house. This is what I affectionately call the magpies that come to feed on the front veranda. Magpies often get a bad rap for being aggressive. In a small town like Millthorpe, they know all the people and can distinguish between those who treat them well and those who do not like their company. I am often rewarded for being kind to them with their mellifluous warbles as they sit on the railing, necks craned, beaks raised skyward.

Nature plays a vital role in our quality of life especially for those who live in cities. We are seeing an increased willingness to consider the health of urban environments through improving biodiversity. I’d like to see a greater variety of birds in the heart of Australian cities beyond pigeons, gulls, and ibises.

Of course, not all bird sounds have a positive effect on us. Some can be downright irritating. Take the Koel for example. To be subjected to the coo-eee call of a Koel rising in pitch and fervour is akin to torture. The kindest thing I can say about them is that I am grateful that they are migratory birds. I’d much rather listen to a flock of local sulphur crested cockies. Noisy as they are, I have a soft spot for these larrikins. They are mischievous, funny creatures who relish play and pleasure. I love the way they hang upside down from the gutter to look through my window or find novel ways to open my garbage bins to see what is hidden inside. Curious, cheeky and utterly uncontrollable, they are the epitome of the rebel without a cause. Cockatoos often wreak havoc, yet I can never be cross at them for long. Theirs may not my favourite bird call but they make me laugh like no other bird can.

There is so much to learn from pausing to listen to our natural environment. Tuning in to bird songs helps me get out of my head and pay attention to my surroundings. I focus wholeheartedly on listening rather than looking. It’s a skill many of us neglect.