|
A recent birdwatching trip to coastal Connecticut had me seeing
gre en.
Not green as in the much-welcomed trend toward environmental awareness, and not green as in the color of money (although
that would have been nice.) Rather, the green I saw belonged to a bird — a monk parakeet, to be specific.
Green
is not a common color to see on New England birds. There are plenty of blue birds and red birds, and even several yellow birds,
but very few green birds. Mallards, wood ducks and a few other ducks come to mind, but not much else, especially in the way
of songbirds.
Even New England birds with “green” in their names are not obvious about being green. Black-throated
green warblers have a little olive green wash on their backs, and green herons are hardly a vibrant green.
Monk parakeets,
on the other hand, are undeniably green — bright, tropical green. But are they true New England birds? Not really,
but perhaps it’s time to start thinking of them as New England birds.
They have had established colonies throughout
coastal Connecticut since the 1970s. Cardinals, mockingbirds and titmice haven’t been in New England all that much longer
and those species are certainly considered New England birds.
But monk parakeets aren’t even native to this country,
you might argue. Starlings, house sparrows and ring-necked pheasants aren’t native Yankees, either, but they are New
England birds.
Theories abound on just how monk parakeets came to New England — and other pockets of the country
such as New York, Chicago and Washington state. The most popular theory suggests that the original birds were destined for
the pet industry and escaped from crates at nearby airports.
Since New England, especially coastal southern New England,
has a similar climate to these birds’ native homes in temperate South America, they survived, thrived and multiplied.
It’s now been more than 30 years since they’ve been a part of the landscape in New England.
For the most
part, the parakeets have remained close to the shore, within a mile or so. New observations, however, show that they are working
their way farther inland, upwards of 15 miles away from Long Island Sound. Are they headed toward the Monadnock Region? Not
any time soon, I’m sure.
Milan Bull, senior director of science and conservation at Connecticut Audubon Society,
has seen the geographic expansion himself.
“I’m not sure if the numbers are expanding or just their range,”
he said. “I do know they are moving inland. They are fairly widespread.”
Bull said a rough estimate of the
region’s monk parakeet population is 3,000 to 5,000.
So the parakeets — our little piece of South America
— are here to stay.
That may be good news to a lot of people, but not everybody. It seems that one’s affection
toward the lime green birds is directly proportional to how far away one lives from the birds. Monk parakeets build massive
nests of sticks, usually in evergreens. Each tree can hold several multi-room nests and each nest can house several parakeet
families. The birds can be messy and, without a doubt, they are noisy. Hearing a single bird squawk is one thing. Listening
to an entire colony at all hours of the day is another thing.
When I did my first column on monk parakeets several years
ago, I received an e-mail a few days later. The message was this: “Nice column on monk parakeets. Now how do I get rid
of them?”
In addition to the big, noisy, messy nests, some people have other concerns about monk parakeets. They
are considered agricultural pests in South America, will they become the same here? What about our native birds? Will they
be impacted?
Bull doesn’t think so. He said the winter food sources available in New England are not great enough
to allow for a significant proliferation of the species. Monk parakeets eat mostly seeds, grasses and berries.
“I
don’t see them, as yet, causing any problems with native bird populations or agriculture,” he said. “The
concern is they will increase to a certain population and then increase exponentially. I think that argument is limited because
we don’t have the habitat or winter food.”
The monk parakeets at the beach the other day were actively working
on their nests this week. On the other side of the park, an osprey was sitting on a nest high atop a light pole. The osprey
recently returned from spending the winter thousands of miles south of New England. The monk parakeets, on the other hand,
stayed with us throughout our toughest season.
As hard as it may be for some salty New Englanders, perhaps it’s
time to consider these displaced flashy-colored birds one of our own. Return to archives
|
