|Unexpected signs of Spring
||[Mar. 10th, 2003|09:41 am]
|||||Glen Miller - Tuxedo Junction||]|
I stumbled across a sparrow orgy this morning. On a sunny lawn between two hospital buildings a flock of English sparrows were getting it on, coupling frenetically within a wingspan of each other. My presence did not disturb them in the least (nor did the lack of a tiny hot tub or throbbing porn music).
And I realized then why these obnoxious little trespassers are so successfully driving the indigenous songbirds to the edge of extinction. They have no shame. They are the sluts of the bird world, demanding no territory for their mating rituals, and able to keep it up even in the midst of distraction. The discerning warbler doesn’t have a chance against these little brown harlots. Even their nesting territory is only as wide as the span of my front window, since they have a nest at each end.
It’s a superior breeding instinct, as far as survival goes. Too bad the damned things ever made it to this country.