Sparrows are the Heart of a Feeder Program

Most of the time we watch our feeding stations from the warmth and comfort of the kitchen or den. If you have more than one station, you can watch from any of several places, and then the binoculars are always in another room when you want to get a closer look at what is out there.

If you are content with just hanging a feeder or two close to a window, then a closer look is often not needed. You may be missing something special, however. Most people seem to want to attract a variety of birds to their yards, and especially some glamour species, such as cardinals or a red-bellied woodpecker.

The chickadees, goldfinches, and jays are great, but the heart of a feeding program has to be the sparrows. Not the misnamed house sparrow, which we should more properly call by its family name. It is one of the Eurasian weaver finches. The house sparrow is abundant on active farms and in the older suburbs near the center of towns and cities. The more rural areas without farms are fortunate enough not to entertain these pests.

True sparrows are a native family of ground feeding birds, all sharing brown or gray coloration and all fond of eating seeds, which they find on or near the ground. They, along with blackbirds and finches are the pinnacle of bird evolution. Well, perhaps not the pinnacle, but at least the most recently evolved group of species. They are adapted to inhabit the more open, arid, or colder regions of the earth, able to derive sustenance from vegetable matter as well as insect life.

If you spread seed on the ground every day you will attract sparrows. Use a mix with plenty of millet included, or even only millet. An extra treat is to go outside in the evening and sit among the sparrows. Not only will you see them closely, you will overhear their conversations.

Two weeks ago there were only a few song sparrows at the feeders. Now the autumn has arrived, bringing sparrows from the North driven by cold winds to our door. First the white-throated sparrows appeared, sporting the white or pale gray stripes over the eye as well as the white throat. The immatures are duller and show off streaking on the breast and sides. Often you can hear one of them sing their lazy plaintive song, one slow clear note followed by several higher slow, sweet notes.

Within a week the juncos came to the feeders, overwhelming the ground and nearby bushes. The more of any one species there is in your yard, the more they will talk with each other. The odd swamp or fox sparrow that comes will not deign to speak to the juncos. Even the two or three white-crowned sparrows will be silent. These last are usually immature birds, with plain undersides and two dark stripes through the crown surrounding a buffy central patch.

All the sparrows come to the feeders in desperate frenzy as the sun sets. Sit outside and keep very still, behind the cover of a fence or otherwise camouflaged. If there are more than a few song sparrows they will talk to one another, giving out a short jumble of notes as they supplant one another at a favored spot, or hurry for cover in a nearby bush.

But the best conversation of all is the juncos. A single note, low and mellow but clear as a tinkling bell, repeated two or three times, or many times to make a slow sweet trill. This song sounds too insistent to be just exuberance or fun. They are sorting out who has first rights and who follows who at the station.

As only a few arrive, there is much chasing and fleeing. As more and more sneak onto the seed ground, they tolerate one another within a few inches. Then the spectacle of an entire regiment of juncos fills the space, each bowing their pale pink bill to the ground, like recruits on parade.

As the light fades they may be harder to see, but you can feel them all around you, taking the last bit of meal before bed. The serenade subsides and one by one they flutter off, seeking the shelter of a thick bush for the long night.