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.
From Quill to Quote 