A Home for Sparrows

Some two years ago when we shifted home to a ‘better accommodation’, we were surprised to find that the new house allotted to us was not vacant at all. We were welcomed in our new home by two feathery residents – two little sparrows – who had already established base behind a slightly loose ply-wood board (which concealed electric wiring), in the verandah. Every morning their chirping, as they surveyed the lawns in search of an unfortunate early worm, acted as the most soothing alarm. Every few months their activities would increase; and the sparrows would be visible, rushing, in turns, towards their board with a worm dangling from their beaks. Loud chirping sounds would come as the bird disappeared behind the board, and then would cease a few minutes later as the bird flew-off. And a few weeks later, a couple of little sparrows would come out of the board, ready to take on the world. Little ones were born, and went away, as is there wont – but the original pair stayed.

Soon the pair had become a part of the family. Even Candy, the lovably ferocious German Spitz, who hardly tolerates anybody’s (other than the family members) presence in his domain, adopted a condescending attitude. He would sit at the edge of the lawn, keeping a lazy eye on the flitting sparrows, but would chase away any other bird if it would try to intrude.

Things were moving peacefully for all the co-residents, three humans, one dog, and two sparrows – but one evening this summer we noticed that the birds were not going inside their board at night, but were staying out. Initially we put the reason for this behavior to heat (temperature was crossing 48^o those days), but soon we detected another pair of larger birds coming out of the board. Now we understood; our little sparrows had been forcefully evicted from their home.

A surprising development. As expected, we took shelter in the expertise of Google – which informed us that such evictions of sparrows by larger birds are not uncommon. Our pair stayed around for a-day-or-two more, but then silently went away – maybe to set-up a new home at a safer location.

The sparrows went away and we humans accepted their departure, albeit with a heavy heart. But one of us flatly refused to accept the new co-residents – Candy. Whenever he had some time free from chasing chameleons in the hedges and stealing mangoes (yes, that was his favourite pass-time those days), he would just stand beneath the board, and would bark loudly towards it, to his heart’s content. Not that that eleven-inches high bundle of fur, with all his anger, had any effect on the intruders.

The old pair of sparrows would visit us occasionally, maybe the worms in the lawn attracted them, but they never stayed for long and never came inside the verandah. Then we got a new bird-house, with a very small entrance – the seller claimed that no bird larger than sparrow can enter – but to no avail. The sparrows took no notice.

Suddenly one evening the board fell down, and the interiors became visible. We saw that the space (behind the board) was filled with a thick and comfy layer of twigs. Even the sides were layered with grass twigs. The effort sparrow-duo must have put in to create that haven of comfort was beyond imagination, but now we understood why the pair of larger birds was so attracted to this abode.

This was a golden opportunity. The electrician was immediately called and instructed to clean the area, and to put back the board securely (so as to prevent any further avian entries). He climbed his ladder, and informed that there were four eggs inside. The instructions to evict the birds were quickly taken back, and the board was put-back exactly as before – to prevent the eggs/babies from falling down.

And not a day too soon. The next morning faint chirping sounds were heard emanating from behind the board. And soon the process of parents taking turns to carry worms to babies was getting repeated once again. We accepted the situation. Well, all of us except Candy – who continued with his charade of barking at the board.

Well, a few days later suddenly the chirping sounds ceased, and the birds also disappeared. The electrician was recalled, who once again climbed his ladder and declared that the space was empty. Maybe that species did not establish permanent nests. So, the place was cleaned of all the twigs, and the board firmly secured. No more little birds were to be born there.

But lo and behold, the next morning our original pair of sparrows were back, trying to find a path to enter behind the board. Those little birds, who were evicted from their home and forced to shift to some new location, were keeping an eye on the intruders, and were back as soon as they found the coast clear. This time the entrance was barred, but that did not seem to bother the pair. They were again hopping around in the verandah, twittering happily – and after so many days, Candy was sitting in the lawn with his eyes closed and contentment on his face.

The sparrow pair still comes to my verandah daily, knocks at the board with a hope to find an entrance – and then visits the bird-house, which is still vacant. They go inside the bird-house, then come out, then re-enter, and then again come out – as if trying to decide whether this is a ‘better accommodation’ or not. But I am sure that one day the bird-house will get its first inhabitants, and our little sparrows a new home.