The pigeons are at it again
Need inspiration for Valentine's Day? The humble woodpigeon has it sussed
Last week, while I was at the sink, Hattie started chattering at the cat flap. As a nature lover, I appreciate how readily she communicates her presence to potential prey, and nothing sets her off as much as a pigeon. Luckily for her, a pair of woodpigeons have claimed territorial rights over our garden and they stop by regularly (in fact, their presence is immortalised in this year’s Big Garden Birdwatch, along with Mr and Mrs Blackbird and an unnamed pair of blue tits). They sit on the fence or bird table, bluster around pecking seed from under the feeders, or chase away intruder pigeons, their tiny heads bobbing atop puffed out chests. They may look stupid but they’re wise to Hattie, and so while they sometimes tease her by letting her get halfway across the garden, they always fly off in time; nonetheless, the mere sight of them in our garden is enough to send her into little fits of excited anticipation.
‘Ack!’ said Hattie, lashing her tail. ‘Ackach ACH hra mach!’ I peer out of the window to find out what the pigeons are up to. Oh I see. It feels a bit early, having only just turned our backs on January, but the pigeons are getting frisky. In fact, while the BTO states that the average date for woodpigeons to start laying eggs is April 30th, the typical range is from 22nd February–20th August. Even this is conservative - woodpigeons have been known to breed during all months of the year if enough food is available, and with our warming climate that’s bound to become more usual.
Woodpigeon courtship is a fantastically intricate and charming affair. It begins with the male establishing a territory, which he advertises to females and intruders with that delightful ‘hoo HOO hoo, hoo-hoo’ call. Those wonderful arcing flights you might have seen, where a pigeon flies up, claps his wings together, and then glides back down, are all about showing off to females, and if one is interested he will advertise his quality further with a dance. He struts around with puffed up neck feathers, bowing his head to the ground while simultaneously lifting and fanning out his tail. It’s all to convince her of his worth as a mate and, since woodpigeons are monogamous, that’s not a decision to be taken lightly. Since the average lifespan of woodpigeons in the UK is 3 years, they will typically spend two breeding seasons together, and over that time they also do other little things to reinforce their bond, such as mutual preening. It’s a remarkable thing for a bird that most people give little to no thought. As nature writer Phil Gates wrote in a 2021 article:
If their plumage was gaudy, if they lived deep in tropical jungles, then the family life of wood pigeons would be the subject of a TV documentary.
Back to our lovebirds on the fence. She has crouched down next to him, which is a sure sign that she’s in the mood because this is the exact position she needs to be in for mating to happen. He, on the other hand, is either extremely stupid or needs a bit more convincing. He walks off, doing a little turn and preening under his wing, which prompts her to get up and hop towards him, opening her beak as if to say, ‘oh for goodness sake, Herman!’ What actually happens is that they start kissing, although that sounds like a romantic embrace and this is definitely more of a full-on, open-mouthed, hungry snog. She appears to have inserted her beak inside his, which seems extremely forward. She crouches again but he’s distracted and has another preen. After a lot more of this ‘kissing’ he’s ready. Fluttering his wings to hop onto her back, he steadies himself for a moment, as if to remember what happens next and then, in the most ungainly way possible, leaning sideways and frantically flapping his wings so as to not fall off, he manages to push her tail to one side and align their bits. It only takes a second and then mating is complete.
Of course, that’s a very anthropomorphised view of what’s going on. Woodpigeons aren’t humans and they don’t experience the same emotions as we do. For one, that intense kissing is properly called ‘billing’ and the reason that it looks like they’re eating each other’s faces is because they’re sharing regurgitated food. Yummy. Then there’s the mating itself, which just looks ridiculous. Pigeons, like most birds (notable exceptions being ducks and ostriches), mate through a single opening called the cloaca, through which they also pee and poo. Mating is achieved with a ‘cloacal kiss’, which also sounds romantic but is basically just these orifices being smushed together for long enough for sperm to be transferred. And that’s not very long.
The next step is to build a ‘nest’, which for woodpigeons is not a mossy-lined, cosy little cocoon but a loose, flimsy construction of twigs balanced between branches in trees or hedges, or dumped onto a building ledge. Pigeons are often mocked for their terrible nests, particularly feral pigeons, for whom an entire Twitter account was set up to share photos of their shitness (although in fairness to them, their wild rock dove ancestors nested on cliffs and flat ledges before we domesticated them, which our buildings do a remarkably good job of mimicking). Woodpigeon nests are a step up from those of the feral pigeon, but given the sheer numbers of feral pigeons in the world, you have to admit that they’re doing something right. The prime objective for any nesting bird is to have eggs that hatch and chicks that fledge, so woodpigeons and feral pigeons and all other habitually crap nest builders seem to have struck the perfect balance of putting in as little effort as possible to reap maximum gains.
The two eggs that are typically laid are incubated by both parents, so there’s little opportunity for them to roll away, and when they hatch the parents incubate their chicks too. Baby pigeons are called squabs and they are not pretty. Born blind and featherless, like all altricial birds (in contrast to precocial species, such as chickens, ducks or swans), they are completely dependent on their parents for food. In the first few days of life, hidden away in the nest with mum or dad, they are fed directly from the beak on ‘crop milk’ - a suspension of special cells that have been sloughed away from the crop wall of the parent and which, according to this study, ‘comprises a small amount of paste that is white or light yellow and has a rancid flavor.’ It looks disgusting, like curdled cream, and I can’t imagine ever agreeing to find out that it has a rancid flavour, but it’s got everything the chick needs to grow quickly: about 60% protein, up to 37% fat, minerals, antibodies and more. And grow quickly they do, as you can see from this video (although it is not a woodpigeon, the development is very similar):
At the last count, there were an estimated 5.2 million breeding woodpigeon pairs in the UK. Given this and the fact that they’re always mating (as I was writing this, I happened to glance out of the office window to see the same pair doing the same thing in the same place), I’ve always been baffled as to why we don’t see their chicks everywhere. Scruffy little pigeons aren’t hopping around after their parents begging for food like baby blackbirds or blue tits. No. Pigeon chicks hang back, taking their time before making their entrance. And when they do, they are full-sized, fully feathered and almost indistinguishable from adults, ready to go out into the world and get on with the important job of bimbling around. It’s a strategy that clearly works for pigeons, and another reason why being closely bonded makes so much sense.
So there you go. Lessons on love and life from the pigeons. I’m not going to ask whether that puts you in the mood for Valentine’s Day because that doesn’t sound quite right somehow, but perhaps it’s got you thinking about the ways that you might show somebody important in your life that you care. Just maybe leave the regurgitated food to the pigeons - a box of chocolates will do nicely.
Facts of the fortnight
Your dog adores you and sometimes your cat thinks you’re ok too. But they’ll still have no qualms about eating you when you’re dead. EVEN YOUR HAMSTER. And this is a problem for forensic pathologists trying to piece together somebody’s last moments. More here.
Not really a fact, but it amused me to learn that a pigeon that was suspected of being a Chinese spy was released last week after eight months in captivity. It was captured at a Port in Mumbai last year for behaving suspiciously and because its leg rings appeared to feature Chinese text. Turned out to be a racing bird from Taiwan. More here.
#NaturePhotoADay
If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll see that late on New Year’s Day I decided to set myself the challenge of starting a nature related Project365 (this year, #Project366), meaning I have committed to sharing one nature/outdoors photo every day for the whole of 2024. You can follow along on Instagram if you like, but I share my favourite from the previous fortnight here anyway.
It was a tricky decision this time, as I have a couple of favourites from the last two weeks. But, in the end I had to go with my hazel flower, which funnily enough had the least engagement on Instagram. These little beauties are the female flowers of the hazel (the male flowers are the long droopy catkins, naturally), and they are what develops into the nuts once fertilised. They’re tiny - just a couple of millimetres across - and tricky to see until you train your eye to pick out the little magenta tentacles. I was really happy to have got this one close up in good focus, as it’s one of my favourite signs of spring.
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I loved this, I am fascinated by pigeons and always think they don't get enough credit.
Your hazel photo is a stunner too, they are so hard to capture!