ON THE WING
It’s that time of the year when our feathered friends, or at least some of them, show an aggressive streak. The main culprits in our public open spaces are plovers but magpies are just as likely to join in the mayhem that is spring.
The ABC earlier this month invited me in to explain why birds act the way they do at this time of the year and I was happy to share my knowledge with Sarah Gillman on her Mornings radio show.
It just so happened that shortly before I arrived a male plover had been tapping on one of the ABC’s ground-floor windows in Hobart. It was seeing his reflection, thinking a rival male was invading his patch.
The ABC is famous for its troublesome plovers on the lawns of its headquarters and the nearby roundabout. Each year, I get reports of plover chicks needing to be rescued from grass verges and traffic islands there.
As I explained to Sarah and her listeners, we have created the plover problem by designing our cities with parks and sports grounds, and traffic verges, which are to their liking. The plover — or masked lapwing to give it its proper name — was before European settlement an uncommon species, inhabiting the fringes of forest and wetlands where grass was wet and short.
It is a bird of open spaces, feeding, nesting and even sleeping amid tussocks of grass. The distinctive alarm call, which Sarah played at the start of the interview, is designed to frighten people from getting too close to eggs or chicks, and alert the chicks of danger, warning them to keep low.
As I discovered from calls from listeners during the interview, Tasmanians love their plovers. And it’s worth noting the birds are not dangerous, even if they are armed with a lethal-looking spike at the join of their wings. This gives them the alternative name of spur-winged plover.
There was once a suggestion that the spike carried venom, like the spurs on platypus rear feet, but this is a furphy. The plovers are wary of making contact with their swooping and dive-bombing. It’s all threat and bluster and they are merely trying to drive people away. Magpies, on the other hand, can be dangerous, carrying a beak with a sharp tip, which can inflict a wound. (Next week I’ll devote the column to magpies and how to avoid attack).
During the ABC interview, a reader phoned with an account of her lifting a plover chick, trapped on a road by a high kerb, to safety as the parents looked on, as though they knew the human was trying to help. There’s a lesson in this that applies to all young birds coming to grief in mankind’s world. It is always best to resist the urge to “rescue” chicks and take them home. They should be put in a sheltered place close to where they were found. The parents will arrive to keep feeding them.