The Mob Rules Our Garden
An adventure in unintended consequences
We installed the owl house with the goal of attracting a predator to our yard. Months back, we’d been overrun by a mischief of rats. They flooded our backyard every evening — a scurrying gray sea of rodents. Winter arrived and the tide of rats receded. Then, in late spring, we received our first resident owl. At first, Andrew and I rejoiced, happy to have our own rodent assassin on hand if the little buggers returned. Would we be blessed with owlets?
Excited, we broke out the binoculars. Andrew grabbed his camera and zoomed in for a portrait. With a creek bordering our property, we never want for wildlife. We were blissfully unaware of the consequences of inviting a bird of prey into our little sanctuary. After all, we had observed bobcats, raccoons, and possums wandering through our garden. I rely on a squadron of little green lizards to keep unwelcome bugs at bay.
Along our sidewalk, toads alert on night patrol wait for juicy June bugs to stumble into their path.
Not long after the owl first revealed itself, a chorus of squawks, chitters, and shrill whistles rose from our yard like a concert from an out of tune orchestra. Our visitor ducked back into the cover of the wooden house.
“What are they doing?” I waved at the flock of jays — a blur of blue feathers dive bombing the owl house.
Andrew stated the obvious. “They don’t like the owl.”
And no wonder. I realized we had placed the bird house directly overlooking our feeders. The ones where every morning a queue of owl-bite-sized wrens, chickadees, and finches appeared. Not so good for the victims, but a perfect opportunity for the bird of prey. We had installed a hotel room with a complementary breakfast buffet.
Andrew and I joined in the ruckus, jumping and waving our hands while yelling “Shoo! Shoo!” The owl, unimpressed, poked his head out now and again to glare at us. Our songbirds — blue jays, cardinals, and chickadees — continued to squawk and dive bomb the bird house. This behavior is known as “mobbing” and occurs when birds feel threatened by a predator. They band together to harass the intruder. This continued throughout the day. The mobbing behavior reminded me of the short story The Birds by Daphne Du Maurier. Most people remember the Alfred Hitchcock movie based on the story. “We better remember to keep the feeders filled,” I told Andrew.
At last, at dusk, with the mob dispatched to their night time roosts, the owl emerged. He flew to the creek for a quick drink, then disappeared into the trees. We haven’t seen an owl since then, but we hear them sometimes. Possibly they are sharing the bad review of our noisy bed and breakfast.
Writer in Plano, Texas trying to get the words out of her head and onto the page. View all posts by mstturpin
Originally published at http://terryeturpin.com on June 19, 2023.
