LBJs Part 2: I Don't Get No Respect

The astute reader of this journal might have noticed a significant omission from the list of sparrows included in my last post.  To be sure, there were some pretty nice birds in my "practice practice practice" session.  Lark Sparrows are utterly stunning.  White-crowned Sparrows:  impressive.  Song Sparrows, a joy to listen to that song.  And so on and so forth.  

House Sparrow (male)
Passer domesticus
Steamboat Springs, CO
6/1/13

But really, where was our everyday sparrow, the guy you see outside your home and outside your office and inside the airport?

Yes, folks, I'm talking about the poor, neglected House Sparrow.  And, if I might add, the often much-maligned House Sparrow.

Now, snooty birders like to say things like, "well, House Sparrows aren't really sparrows," and then sniff with derision at the very thought.

And these pompous as....oops, this is a family show, so these, um utter snobs, could not be more wrong.

House Sparrow (female)
Passer domesticus
Boston, MA
4/15/12

The truth of the matter is that House Sparrows are the original sparrows.

It turns out that the word "sparrow" is an English word that refers to small active birds.  And it turns out that the early American colonists pilfered the word and applied it to pretty much most of the Little Brown Jobs they encountered in the New World. This led to a wholesale misnaming of many birds that otherwise might have been known as buntings or finches or heaven-knows-what.  

So that pretty Lark Sparrow?  Hmmm.  Maybe it should be called a Lark Bunting. 

Oh wait.  We already have a Lark Bunting.  And it happens to be the state bird of Colorado. (I think I've mentioned that before.  Just preparing you;  there will be a quiz.)

This is so very confusing.

But back to the subject at hand:  House Sparrows.  These guys were the original sparrows!  And they were not North American birds;  reports of their introduction to North America variously put the timing of that event anytime from the late 1700s to (very precisely for something that is not all that agreed-upon) 1852.  The birds, as anyone paying attention even in the least little bit can attest, thrived here.

The birds are sometimes called English Sparrows.  North American Field Guides put them at the complete tail end, and refer to them as "Old World Sparrows", distinguishing them from the "New World Sparrows" that are really finches or buntings or whatever.

Southern Grey-headed Sparrow
Passer diffusus
Pilanesberg Game Reserve, South Africa
10/27/12

But here's the thing:  when the birding guides advise you to study your New World Sparrows by taking closer looks at them by their genus, they don't tell you that the lowly House Sparrow, forever banned to the back of the book, is genus Passer.  And that the Latin word Passer - like the English word sparrow - means "small active bird", or "small fluttering bird".

Cape Sparrow
Passer melanurus
West Coast National Park, South Africa
2/9/13

If a House Sparrow could talk, he might channel Rodney Dangerfield and say, "Hey!  I don't get no respect!"  And sadly, all too true.
Because they are an introduced species in North America, House Sparrows are not protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act - a federal law that protects migratory birds in the U.S.

And even though the bird is "often considered a nuisance species and an agricultural pest, the House Sparrow has proven well-suited for studies of general biological problems such as evolutionary mechanisms, temperature metabolism, and pest control.  For these reasons, it has been studied intensively and is the subject of an immense literature." (credit Birds of North America Online)

So the next time some bird snob sneers when you mention House Sparrows and what pretty Little Brown Jobs they can be, consider that over half of all birds known in the world today are referred to as "Passerines", from the order "passeriformes", words that are derived from the same base word as our lowly Passer domesticus.  Consider also that there are roughly 36 species of birds worldwide sharing the "passer" genus, even if none of them are native to North America (including the pretty little Cape Sparrow and the Southern Grey-headed Sparrow, both of southern Africa).  Consider that these little guys - Passer domesticus, House Sparrows - are the most ubiquitous birds on the planet, even though the first year survival rate is only 20-something percent, and that the adult survival rate annually is only somewhere in the 45-65% range.

In my downtown condo, I can't put out feeders, and I see very few birds on a regular basis.  But I consider it a lucky day when I see one of my neighborhood House Sparrows lurking in the honeysuckle that covers my patio, or flitting about around the powerlines where I spy on their nests across the alley.  I heart my little LBJs, the lowly House Sparrow.