The Besotted Bird: Love Is in the Air!

By Jim Hughes

From my office window which overlooks our driveway, I have been observing one pretty little bird's odd behavior for the past three weeks. From first light to dusk, it seems, he (I'm assuming the creature is a male, for reasons that will soon become obvious) can be seen darting between our Honda van, which mostly sits undriven and unloved, and our giant tangle of forsythia, which is immediately adjacent to the van's passenger side. First, he perches on the rubber sill outside the closed passenger-side window, seeming to peer inside. Then he hops forward, toward the side rearview mirror with its wideangle perspective. Soon, he...well, maybe the pictures tell the story best:

One day I decided to get a closer look at this fascinating little bird with what appeared to be obsessive-compulsive behavior problems. So I quietly slid into the driver's seat with my camera, and focused on the standard warning printed across the bottom of most right-side mirrors. At first I thought the bird, which looks to me like a sparrow (but I'm no expert), was peering at me. Eventually, I realized he was looking at his reflection in the window, which showed his own handsome profile in the mirror.

Seeming to work up some courage, the bird hops closer to the object of his desire, which I realize he has, in all likelihood, convinced himself is a potential mate (it was suddenly Spring, after all, up here in late-blooming Maine). Could it be, I wondered, that he sees his reflected self as an alluring female?

The bird offers his chosen love a close-up look and a peck on the beak. So far, so good...

...then shows himself to any and all competitors, and with a shrill song warns them off.

He makes his approach, and tries to fly into her world...

...only to realize that she has disappeared. Yet again.

This sequence, repeated over and over again, was photographed over the course of maybe an hour, with the photographer (me, cramped arms and all!) trying to remain absolutely still (and invisible to the bird) inside a closed and stifling car. The bird's odd behavior happened with lightning speed in constantly changing light. Camera was a Fuji X-E1; my lens was an antique 35mm (50mm-e) ƒ/2 Canon screw-mount RF.

The courtship ritual is still going on (I am watching it out my office window as I write), although, in evident frustration, the bird has expanded his efforts to now also include the mirrors on the Subaru parked next to the Honda (the latter's mirror is now all but obliterated by white bird poop, incidentally). I regret to say I am soon going to have to find a way to divert the bird's attention elsewhere, since the Honda will shortly be needed for runs to the town dump and the local supermarket, not necessarily in that order.

Perhaps I should call this series "a story of life in six frames."

Jim

For many years, Jim Hughes was the editor of Camera 35. Later, he was the founding editor of Mike J.'s all-time favorite photo magazine, the original Camera Arts. His books include the superb biography W. Eugene Smith: Shadow and Substance—The Life and Work of an American Photographer, and the monograph Ernst Haas in Black and White. Retired now, he writes occasionally for TOP (see his other articles by finding his name in the "Categories" list in the right-hand sidebar). He lives in Maine.

©2014 by Jim Hughes, all rights reserved

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(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Ranjit Grover: "This is a common sight here in the tropics. Not just one variety of bird, but several ones come here and peck at the mirrors in the breeding season. If you do not protect your mirrors they will one day break it. I have seen that happening. The birds are trying to frighten away potential rivals in the mating season. They cannot make out between a reflection and the real. They will peck at any reflective surface. The best way to protect the mirror is to cover it with a paper bag while you are not actually using the vehicle."

GKFroehlich: "Your bird is a Song Sparrow. The behavior you witnessed is actually fairly common, but it's almost certainly a territorial dispute between the male and an imagined would-be interloper. I've seen this behavior many, many times, involving species that are sexually dimorphic (i.e., the males and females have very different plumages). And it's always a male attacking a (presumed) competing male. In our sparrows, the Song Sparrow included, both sexes wear the same plumage, so your courting interpretation is understandable. Still, a nice story in six frames!"

Jim Hughes replies: The male vs. male territorial theory makes sense, and in fact I considered from the outset that explanation for my little bird's repetitive behavior. But after extensive close observation and reflection (could never resist a decent pun), I saw considerably more attraction than aggression. Besides, I am doubtless, as Mark Kirkpatrick notes, an incurable Romantic, at least in a Blakean sense, and when given a choice usually prefer Songs of Innocence over Songs of Experience.

That, and unrequited love generally makes the better story.

Shortly after sending this piece to Mike a few weeks back, I did notice in the local press a story about an evidently crazed raven that had attacked three cars in the town of Richmond, Maine, severely damaging rubber windshield gaskets and wipers in the process. (This followed the previous month's report of two goats clambering atop a car and doing some sort of mating dance on its roof.) We endured one hell of a long, cold winter up here. The understanding chief of police gave car owners permission to 'safely dispatch the nuisance bird.' No word yet on any denouement. I did clip and save the story, incidentally, to cite in just this circumstance.

Comments

[Tom Clifton]

I have seen this behavior, before and have a video of a Dark-eyed Junco doing the same thing. It probably wasn't a courtship, but rather a territorial spat with the virtual male.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/tclifton/13632447243/

[Bob Smith]

Males and females generally have different plumage and that is not courting behavior. Looks like he is "fighting" off competition.

[R. Edelman]

And thus the term "bird brain".
You might consider folding the mirrors in (if possible) or covering them with a plastic bag. I had a bird ruin a side view mirror by scratching it up when it was performing its shenanigans. Those mirrors are expensive.

[Bron]

It looks to be a female House Finch, protecting the territory around it's nest.

[robert e]

I like to think people are more sophisticated than this bird, but considering how obsessed we are with images of ourselves, both real and imaginary, on TV screens, magazine covers, in art, etc., maybe not too much more.

[Mark Kirkpatrick]

Fun pictures, Jim, and you're such romantic! But my guess is that you have less a Romeo than an avian Tybalt, a testosterone-soaked song sparrow hell-bent on killing all other males in his territory lest they have a dalliance with his true love. Yes, love is in the air, but with it come all the nasty side effects.

[David Miller]

A sparrow certainly, likely a Savannah. And likely not courting his reflection, but trying to drive off the competition. (Birds are, as a rule, a pretty beligerent bunch when spring is in the air.)

[GKFroehlich]

Your bird is a Song Sparrow. The behavior you witnessed is actually fairly common, but it's almost certainly a territorial dispute between the male and an imagined would-be interloper. I've seen this behavior many, many times, involving species that are sexually dimorphic (i.e., the males and females have very different plumages). And it's always a male attacking a (presumed) competing male. In our sparrows, the Song Sparrow included, both sexes wear the same plumage, so your courting interpretation is understandable. Still, an nice story in 6 frames!

-gkf-

[darr]

Get a cat.

[Kenneth Tanaka]

I, too, believe you're observing territorial defensive aggression, Jim.

[Roger Bradbury]

I've not seen this, but I witnessed another territorial matter.

We had had several inches of snow in March, which is most unusual. It lay on the ground for weeks.The birds were desperate for food, and I made sure to keep the bird table stocked up.

Now, robins are very territorial. Those christmas cards of several robins on a snowy branch are fantasy; they would fight. This day, there were three robins in my garden at once. It was a tense moment. I held my breath. They looked at each other. They didn't fight.

When the weather improved and food became more available I expect the truce was cancelled.

[Minnow]

Yes, as per comments above, this isn't love I am afraid, it's a barroom brawl. As far as this bird is concerned there is a rival on the block who is incredibly persistent.

[Robert Roaldi]

If it had a camera, it would only shoot selfies.

[Ed Kirkpatrick]

Just adding to the chorus we have a Pileated Woodpecker that does the same thing to my GMC van mirrors...

[Bron]

Song Sparrow (I looked again). Song Sparrow, with 24 valid sub-species, is a "cryptic" species; hard to sort out who is who. 8-)

[Jim Witkowski]

"Get a cat" . . . ACK!

[Mike R]

Some years ago, several cars outside my office were "picked on" by a particularly aggressive and territorial robin. We all wondered when this manic bird had time to eat, and how could one bird emit such copious amounts of crap. This happened each spring for a few years, and seemed to always be just one bird.

[latent_image]

Yesterday I went outside to discover both our cars' windows covered in sparrow poop front and back and on both sides plus mirrors. I've already got several of the house windows covered with sheets of newspaper. The cars are now under tarps.

In 32 years living here (Canadian Maritimes), this is the worst sparrow attack. I'm trying to avoid dark thoughts involving the air rifle that's in the cellar. I applaud Jim Hughes for picking up his camera instead.

[Mark Sampson]

I'm just wondering when the forsythia actually blooms where you live. For your sake, I hope that early spring arrived some time ago in Maine and not this week.

[Sal Santamaura]

"Get a cat."

Or a garage. ;-)

[Herman]

“Mirror Mirror on the Wall, Who Is the Featherest of Them All?”

[Enrique]

Great story. Most artists are sensitive to all kinds of nature's manifestations.
Unfortunately, there is a dramatic side to birds' attempting to fly through the looking glass: http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-27426866

[Bob Keefer]

Google "mirror test."

[Bob Rosinsky]

Okay, speaking of birds, here's something about vultures. It is sort of a counterpart to Jim's story. http://goo.gl/1OQUuW

[Anders]

I love that lens. I use it for most of the film I shoot these days. And in your hands, it's great for birds too.

[Dogman]

The sparrow is being aggressive against a perceived foe. This can end badly. I observed this happen to a vehicle of mine one morning and by the afternoon the bird had killed itself by beating its head against the mirror. I know this is too late but, next time, cover the mirror as soon as possible to avoid injury to the bird.