The house sparrow (Passer domesticus)
In an extract from her most recent book, One Garden Against the World, Kate Bradbury introduces us to some of our nearest neighbours
Illustration by Abby Cook
The house sparrow is a little bird with a big CHEEP! Mostly brown in colour, the male has a black face and bib while the female is duller. They’re scruffy things, birds of big hedges and neglected waste ground. They eat seeds of dandelions and other ‘weeds’ such as sow thistle and knapweeds. They nest in loose family groups in holes and under the eaves of houses, and often nest next to each other. They can have up to three broods a year. They hang around in flocks, in which they forage, bathe and CHEEP! together.
The house sparrow has declined by over 70 per cent (that’s around 22 million birds) since the 1970s but is still the most commonly seen garden bird in the UK. For 20 years it’s held the top spot in the Big Garden Birdwatch, an annual bird count that takes place on the third weekend of January. It’s still common but it’s the rate of its decline that’s worrying, and scientists can’t quite work out what’s going on.
In urban areas it’s thought a combination of loss of nesting habitat and invertebrate food, which they feed their chicks, is contributing to the fall in numbers, with populations completely disappearing from some neighbourhoods. Habitat loss comes from house renovations – holes are filled in and cavity walls insulated to make them more energy efficient, while the eaves of new and refurbished homes are now sealed, so sparrows can’t get in. The loss of invertebrate food means fewer successful nesting attempts – a study in Leicester blamed a lack of insects for the number of chicks found starving in nests. It makes sense: urban spaces have less greenery than rural areas so fewer leaves for invertebrates to eat. Add to that the increase of paving in both front and back gardens, decking and plastic grass, and it doesn’t take a genius to work out why the chicks aren’t getting the nourishment they need.
In rural areas the situation is different, with declines linked to changes in farming practices such as the loss of winter stubbles and hedgerows, along with measures to prevent them from accessing stores of grain. But studies are not conclusive. They could be declining for reasons no-one’s thought of yet.
The thing about house sparrows is that they’re a ‘sedentary’ species, which means they spend their whole lives in one territory, they don’t move around like other birds. If the habitat starts to disintegrate – for example if holes in houses are filled in or there are too many paved-over and fake-turfed gardens – they just stick it out, gradually finding less and less food to feed their chicks, their house literally crumbling around them.
If you have them in your garden you probably have a lot of them – that’s the nature of house sparrows, they hang out in big groups. But that doesn’t mean they’re not struggling and it doesn’t mean you can’t give them a helping hand.
In gardens they’re easy to cater for. The invertebrates we have lost from urban areas are just aphids and caterpillars. Virtually all plants attract aphids, the key is to leave them where you find them and not try to take nature into your own hands by spraying them to death or rubbing them off with your fingers. They rarely harm plants and can be a lifeline for these little brown birds, which balance precariously on stems and pick aphids off them one at a time, before carrying them back to their nest. How do I know? Because I watch them do it. Every spring I know when the chicks have hatched because the house sparrows descend on the garden and frantically take aphids from every leaf and bud. Two weeks later the fresh, fluffy chicks with gaping yellow beaks line up on the fence and tumble into shrubs and trees, not quite sure of their weight or how much space they take up. I watch their parents feed them but also teach them how to find aphids on roses, teach them where the pond and bird bath are, the feeder of sunflower hearts. At dusk they descend on the big horrible hedge in the front garden and CHEEP! loudly until it’s time for bed.
To increase numbers of caterpillars in your garden grow native trees and shrubs, including hawthorn, beech and hazel. Let them grow scruffy and wayward or grow them as a hedge, so the sparrows can roost in them at night. Let areas of grass grow long, which will entice a variety of egg-laying moths and butterflies, along with other invertebrates such as aphids but also beetles and bugs. Having taken some of the invertebrates from the grass, the sparrows will return to take seed from the grasses and any wildflowers that have grown into the thatch.
Nesting sites are important, too. There’s a pub near me, a fancy thing on the seafront, that has always had house sparrows breeding in its many holes and crevices. When the new owners bought it and the refurbishment got underway, I emailed them and explained how house sparrows lived there, how they are sedentary and likely to just stay put even if the habitat declines, that they nest communally. They responded by erecting 30 boxes on the north side of the venue. Thousands of people visit every week and never notice the house sparrows, but when I walk past them I always say hello, and smile, because 30 pairs of house sparrows are raising chicks on the side of a fancy seafront pub, thanks to a couple of emails.
When I bought my house I had six nest boxes retrofitted into the cavity walls of my house, three each for swifts and house sparrows. A pair of great tits nested in one in the first year, and house sparrows often start but then abandon nest building. But the boxes are there for them if they need them. As they nest communally you can erect several boxes together, just make sure they have an entrance hole with a diameter of 30cm. You can buy a ‘sparrow terrace’ which has three boxes in one. Erect them under the eaves of your house (away from any swift or house martin nests), and keep your fingers crossed. With nesting opportunities and good chances of invertebrate food they would be foolish to stay away for long.
You have been reading an extract from One Garden Against the World: In Search of Hope in a Changing Climate by Kate Bradbury. You can order a copy by clicking here.