By Staff
I remember as a kid when English sparrows, nowadays often referred to as house sparrows, were held in great disdain. There just wasn't anything good about them. They hung out in masses around barns white washing everything from tools to livestock feed. They clogged rain gutters with their nests and took over martin and bluebird houses. Not even state and Federal wildlife management agencies would afford them protection as they do all other songbirds. The English sparrow's only usefulness was providing entertainment for kids with their Red Ryder BB guns.
Of course, the English sparrow is an alien to our land. As the story goes, back in the mid 1800s an Englishman living in Long Island, New York deeply missed his homeland. Rather than having another pink gin and letting his melancholy pass he imported from England and released 100 weaver finches, which is the English sparrow's technical name. Soon thereafter someone in San Francisco did likewise, giving the sparrows a start on both coasts. The foreigners found this new land just absolutely peachy and began spreading like wildfire. Within a half century they claimed squatters rights throughout all of North America from the Arctic to Panama and everywhere in between.
The English sparrow is about as close as a wild thing can be to being domesticated. They live almost exclusively around humans and are rarely seen out in the hinterlands. As the eastern U.S. has the highest human population that became the strong hold for the English sparrow. Not long ago every city, suburb and farm east of the Mississippi was rife with them.
But then along came another alien, the house finch. The house finch is native to our Southwestern states and Mexico. They were the bread and butter of bird dealers in the Eastern U.S. who marketed them as 'Hollywood finches.' However, when we entered into the Migratory Bird Treaty Act with Mexico and Canada it became illegal to sell house finches. In 1939 the U.S. Fish &Wildlife Service conducted a series of raids on New York City bird dealers. Naturally, the dealers simply released the house finches to avoid being caught. Ironically, in this way the house finch launched its Eastern invasion from the exact same location the English sparrow did a century before.
The house finch also took a liking to their new found land and by the 1970s they were entrenched throughout the entire Eastern U.S. The house finches and English sparrows share the same needs and desires, directly competing for everything from food to roosting and nesting sites. The War of the Aliens was on.
It was bitter house to house, barn to barn, feeder to feeder fighting with many casualties and atrocities committed by both sides. Despite their long, gallant fight eventually the English sparrows lost out. During the 1980s and '90s English sparrows continued to decline until, at least to my casual eye, they were actually a novelty to see. I could hardly believe it but the house finch had all but displaced the English sparrow.
But Ma' Nature has her ways. In 1994 conjunctivitis began its ravaging march through house finch populations. In just a few years house finch numbers, which was estimated at over a billion birds nationwide, was cut in half in the Eastern U.S. A large contributor to this pandemic was the popularity of the tube type bird feeders where the birds stick their heads through holes to reach the seed inside. The conjunctivitis bacteria, which forms on bird's eyes, was scraped off and collected around the edges of the holes awaiting the next bird to hitch a ride with. The house finch is most susceptible to this disease but many other species were affected as well.
At any rate, with house finch numbers drastically reduced the English sparrows are making a comeback. They have once again reclaimed the barns at our Marcellus farm and for the first time in years they outnumber the house finches at our bird feeders. Do not consider this is a permanent truce, though. Nature is never static. Surely the War of the Aliens will cycle to and fro into eternity for that is nature's way. Carpe diem.
Larry Lyons writes a weekly outdoor column for Leader Publications. He can be reached at larrylyons@beanstalk.net