Birds of a Feather
The common house sparrows (Passer domesticus) that congregate on the garage at my Dad’s place are fat and picky when it comes to dining out. They’ve been spoilt from good daily feedings and I’m amazed at how keen they still are after the first pickings and the second and even a third.
It seemed like it was every bird for themselves at times but as I watched, I realised that Austrian naturalist Konrad Lorenz’s observation that sparrows exhibit spatial intelligence was infact true. They did! They knew exactly who was where in the garden and were none too fussed about spoiling the thuggish antics of the blackbirds running amok on their turf.
You had to admire the few well aimed screechings that determined that the bullish blackbird’s ruse was up and what I loved most of all was how they managed to stay just out of wing-shot of any well aimed box-round-the-ears a blackbird thought they might have deserved. Doing the sparrow shuffle. So spectacularly spatial I thought! And smart.
“Sparrow, their common name, is a variation of the old Teutonic sparwa from sper meaning to quiver, were formerly classed as a finch, a seed eater but are now considered to belong to the weaver family of birds. Where the house sparrow builds a bulky rough domed nest, its most highly evolved relatives weave nests of superlative workmanship and produce the most spectacular of all avian architecture.”
My Dad showed me the bird’s nest he’d found on the lawn recently. We appreciated together the absolute beauty of it, compact with deftly woven fine twigs that truly were an awesome display of avian know how. The nest wasn’t going to fall apart in your hands anytime soon and I just couldn’t help but admire the architect.
Pukeko
Yet much as I admire them, I have to admit one of my favourite birds is the Pukeko (Porphyrio porphyrio melanotus) which is quite a mouthful for such a scrawny bird. I have a singular fascination with what I consider to be their maniacal bordering on suicidal tendencies! Let me explain. Ninety-nine point nine nine times that I see a Pukeko it’s darting backwards and forwards near a main road looking for an opportunity to cross it. They have in my opinion, little or (I suspect) no road sense at all. So, tell me you don’t know that scenario!
They’re like the absent-minded professor of the bird world, neither in nor out, before or after, here nor there always dithering like a nervous wet week. I get tired just thinking about them! Nonetheless, they have ridiculously big feet on the end of matchsticks for legs and their ungainliness is more endearing than disturbing.
“They are of course drawn to roadsides because of the drains that supply the sort of habitat they like such as the raupo swamps which have virtually disappeared elsewhere. So they aren’t as silly as we first imagined nor suicidal after all. It’s really just that a particularly desirable food source outweighs the risks.
The Pukeko is a member of the rail family that includes the Weka, they are also called the Purple Swamp Hen or Purple Gallinule although they are not really purple at all but, for the most part, a deep almost iridescent indigo blue. The back and wings are black with a greenish gloss and the undertail coverts are pure white. It has a scarlet bill and orange-red legs and feet. It seems to have become established in New Zealand around 1000 years ago but became abundant only several hundred years ago as forest was cleared.
They are birds that are full of character and can provide a lot of amusement for the observer. The white undertail is flirted cheekily with every movement and their high querulous notes run the whole gamut of expression, from curiosity to interrogation to scolding. The naturalist Guthrie Smith maintained that they make great pets and that every country family should rear them.” I’d like that. I wish.
