Rooting for the Good Guys
These days I spend a lot of time cheering for the good guys–cheering for the native plants to win out over the weeds, for small businesses to win out over giant corporations, and for kindness to win over hate. In a summer where weeds have established a formidable presence in my field, and my social media is full of consumption peddling, it feels like a losing battle, and I am the disheartened fan.
In one instance this summer, I’ve had a hand in the good guys winning. I have five bluebird boxes on my farm. Two of them are in the far reaches of the property that I rarely visit. What happens in those boxes is up to the occupants, but three of the boxes are in close proximity to my daily travels, and I keep close tabs on them. Until this season they have always been the location for the successful fledging of two or three clutches of bluebird babies in each house. This year, the sparrows decided to move in.
The above bluebird photos captured by nature photographer and friend Lisa Uthgenannt
House sparrows (not to be confused with house wrens) are an invasive species. I don’t necessarily wish them ill. They are birds after all, and it is hard to wish ill-will on birds, but I draw the line when they take over the space I have created for the native bluebird.
Earlier this summer, the house sparrows were building nests in all but one of my boxes and scaring the bluebirds out of their homes. I was at a loss at what to do. I researched on the internet and even consulted a local bird expert. The advice I received was to make the opening unappealing to the sparrow by adding some wire across the opening. The sparrows didn’t care. They seemed to push it away with great ease. Even when bluebirds sat atop the box, they weren’t always building the nest inside. Next step, I was advised, was to remove the offending sparrow nest every time they built it.
In general, I don’t like tipping the scales when it comes to nature, but these were dark times. So I learned to recognize the difference between a sparrow nest and a bluebird nest. Hint: sparrows’ nests are much messier. It felt a bit like a part-time job. I was amazed at how quickly a sparrow could build a sizable nest. House sparrows, it turns out, are relentless, but I can be pretty determined too.
Ultimately, after daily visits and many nest removals, the bluebirds grew brave and laid their eggs. Two of the three boxes have supported two generations of bluebird babies, and one box is on its third generation. The other box has mostly sat abandoned.
As is often the case in my interactions with nature, I feel like it’s sending me a message. Push on, make the small changes that I am capable of, and keep rooting for the good guy. It has become my mantra in so many ways this year.
In the meantime, while I’m over here looking for all the ways I can support the good guys, if you have any tips about bolstering the bluebirds–send them my way!
