Penguins in the pond, kiwi in the back yard: how a city brought back its birds
Some time in the pre-dawn darkness, the commotion starts. From her bed, Danae Mossman hears the noise building: loud romantic liaisons, vomiting, squeals, the sound of bodies hitting the pool at full tilt.
Things get particularly loud between midnight and 4am, Mossman says, âwhen they are getting busyâ.
Mossmanâs hard-partying housemates are a flock of kororÄ, or little penguin, the worldâs smallest, which have formed a growing colony beneath her house in the Wellington suburb of Karaka Bays on the Miramar peninsula. They use her lily ponds for pool parties, and during nesting season, they create a stink.
âThey go out and get fish, regurgitate it and eat that for three days.â
New Zealandâs Department of Conservation encouraged the birds to move to specially built nests closer to the sea, but so far they have shown no desire to leave. So Mossman has come to embrace her housemates, even installing a ladder in the ponds so the penguins can clamber out.
âWe figured if they were happy and safe under our home, then we wouldnât want them any place they were more vulnerable,â Mossman says. âThe most annoying thing about them being under the house is how loud they are.â
In many cities, forests and ecosystems around the world, the sounds of nature are falling silent. But in New Zealandâs capital, people are experiencing a crescendo in birdsong, thanks to decades of conservation efforts. Some species, such as the kororÄ, are still at risk, but many native birds have bounced back in their thousands, transforming the cityâs morning chorus.
âThe dawn chorus is so loud, we have to shut the doorsâ
In the dark, still moments as Wellington wakes and the hum of traffic builds, the cityâs birds begin to sing.
First comes the tĆ«Ä«âs high, clear trill, slicing through the dawn. The melodious bells of korimako join, followed by the pÄ«wakawaka with its kiss-like squeaks. As the horizon lightens, kÄkÄ â large brown parrots â fleck the sky, waking residents as they swoop and screech.
Fifty years ago, when Jack and Jill Fenaughty bought their then bare, rugged farmland in MÄkara â 25 minutes from the city centre â they were lucky if they encountered an introduced bird species, let alone a native one.
âYou saw hardly any native birds,â Jill says. âNow,â Jack jumps in, âthe dawn chorus is so loud, we have to shut the doors if we want a lie-in.â
Wellington may be bucking local and international trends, but nearly 30 years ago conservationist Jim Lynch described the city as a âbiodiversity basket caseâ.
Like many cities across the globe, human activity, habitat loss and introduced pests had decimated Wellingtonâs birdlife. By the 1990s, many native species were on the brink of local extinction.
In the mid-1990s, Lynch began work to found a new bird sanctuary in a patch of native forest around a decommissioned city reservoir. Dubbed âZealandiaâ, it would become the worldâs first fully fenced urban ecosanctuary. By 2000, all major predators â cats, possums, rats and ferrets â had been eradicated inside. As native species thrived within the fence, Zealandia worked as a centre, from which recovered bird populations radiated out into the cityâs neighbourhoods.
âThe first thing we noticed coming back were the tĆ«Ä«,â Jack says. As if on cue, one calls loudly in the garden. âNow, they are just part of the furniture.â
The pair notice once-rare native birds year-round in their garden. There are two pairs of kÄrearea, the countryâs only falcon, nesting in a patch of bush nearby and pÄ«wakawaka have become so numerous that the Fenaughtys keep their doors shut to stop the curious birds inviting themselves in.
The Fenaughtysâ experience tracks with the data â a 2023 Wellington regional council report shows that since 2011, the average number of native bird species in the cityâs parks and reserves had risen by 41%. Between 2011 and 2022, kÄkÄ increased by 260%, kererĆ« by 200%, tĆ«Ä« by 85% and pÄ«wakawaka by 49%.
The Zealandia sanctuary, it noted, was having a âmeasurable halo effectâ and âdriving spectacular recoveries in several previously rare or locally extinct native forest bird speciesâ.
Zealandiaâs conservation and restoration manager, Jo Ledington, says the five miles (8km) of anti-predator perimeter fence has meant birds can thrive, but the community efforts outside the sanctuary have allowed them to expand their habitats.
âWellington is one of the only cities in the world experiencing this bounce-back,â Ledington says, adding that a healthy ecosystem âis more important now than everâ, not just for biodiversity but for peopleâs wellbeing.
Perhaps most extraordinarily, the Fenaughtys now hear kiwi â the countryâs beloved national bird â calling at night in the hills around them. In 2022, the Capital Kiwi Project, a community initiative, reintroduced kiwi to Wellingtonâs wilds after a 100-year absence.
Jill pauses when asked what it is like hearing such rare birds in her back yard. âItâs hard to describe â itâs just wonderful.â
âI didnât think we would hear those out here in our lifetime,â Jack says. âWhen you hear the kiwi in your back yard, you know itâs worked.â
Community buy-in key
A sanctuary alone is not enough to bring back a cityâs birds. Part of the success of Wellingtonâs biodiversity boom has been widespread community work to create a safe environment for birds â and a deadly one for invasive predators. Introduced pests kill an estimated 25 million native birds a year in New Zealand.
On a bright Sunday morning on Miramar peninsula, 10 minutes east of the city centre, six volunteers gather to check a vast network of pest traps and cameras crisscrossing the landscape.
Trudging over the headland, Dan Henry, a coordinator at Predator Free Miramar, says volunteers have managed to eliminate rats â ruthless hunters of native birds â from the peninsula. The Wellington urban area alone (population 215,200) boasts at least 50 community pest-trapping and planting groups. They work alongside the governmentâs department of conservation, Predator Free Wellington â a project to make Wellington the worldâs first predator-free capital â and initiatives such as the Capital Kiwi Project.
As Henry removes a dead mouse from a trap, he explains how the thriving birdlife has created a positive feedback loop: as residents encounter native birds in their daily life, the desire to protect them becomes more pronounced.
âIt was particularly evident around the lockdown. People were out walking, the birds came out to play and people were much closer to nature,â he says. âI think people saw that and [thought]: âHoly shit â look whatâs around us,â and doubled their efforts. It was quite remarkable.â
Ross Findlay, a retired teacher and grandfather, attends the meet-up every Sunday morning. In his 40 years in Wellington, he has noticed remarkable changes.
âBirdlife used to be sparrows, starlings and blackbirds, now we have tĆ«Ä«, fantails, kĆtare and kererĆ« in our streets â it is truly amazing.â
Another volunteer, Sue Hope, agrees. âEveryone notices it, not just us,â she says.
As the crew gather to discuss the morningâs work, a rare kÄrearea crashes through the branches above, sending a ripple of excitement through the group. âWeâre in the middle of a big city and there are these amazing birds,â Hope says. âIt makes you appreciate you are not the only thing here.â
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Source: theguardian.com