Our earlier post on “An eagle called on the Director, SBG” had a comment by Morten Strange: “What is absolutely weird in this case is that the window broke, I cannot
 recall another case like this, the impact must have been tremendous! It is a
 wonder the bird didn’t get fatally injured,”



Eddie Chapman, who runs Birding Scandinavia from Voss, Norway, has this to say on Morten’s comment: “I used to work in the glass industry many years ago. One of my jobs was 
replacing broken windows. On at least four occasions that I can remember, I 
was called out to do repair work where birds of prey had hit the window and
 broke it. These were usually Eurasian Sparrowhawk (Accipiter nisus) or Northern Goshawk ((A. gentilis)). Not
 once did I find a dead bird of prey under the broken window, and on two occasions, I was told by the house owner, that the birds of prey were trying
 to catch smaller birds and crashed into the glass while doing so.
”

Wang Luan Keng wrote: “I once had a Yellow Bittern (Ixobrychus sinensis) hit the window of the lab in the National Institute of Education. It was a very loud knock but the window did not break. We went out and found the bittern on the ground, almost dead and the bill had a bent tip!

“Another time, a bunch of crows were chasing a female Asian Koel (Eudynamys scolopacea) in the Singapore Botanic Gardens. The koel eventually knocked into the trunk of a tree and fell. When it was brought to me, blood was oozing out of its mouth. I knew the skull had cracked. It died shortly.

“Many people have also sent me birds that they have picked up from their house or workplace. On autopsy, many have a cracked skull or bent/broken bill. These birds are mostly small-medium sized ones like pittas, pigeons, bitterns, koels, etc. I guess these smaller birds are not as lucky as the eagle.

“In the States, many people hang window ornaments on their glass doors and windows to warn birds against flying into them. In Singapore, we don’t seem to have this practice. In fact, we just keep building more glass buildings and killing more birds!”

Sparrowhawks may escape death after crashing through the glass of windows but smaller birds may not be that fortunate.

Whatever it is, in the United States, it has been estimated that as many as one billion birds are killed each year through collisions with glass. Ornithologist Daniel Klem Jr. claims that only habitat destruction kills more birds.

When the glass is clear, birds see the other side and fly through. With reflective glass, birds see the reflected sky and trees. Either way, they usually end up dead. Many times you may not see an actual corpse, as a cat may have taken it. But there would always be a distinctive smudge on the window if the glass pane is not smashed.

Image of the seafront at Gottensburg, Sweden by YC.

The recent post on birds and their reflections showcasing an Australian crow as well as a Long-tailed Shrike (Lanius schach) and an Oriental Pied Hornbill (Anthracoceros albirostris) has unearthed another case of such behaviour.

Susan Wong Chor Mun reported on the anitcs of a male Ruby-cheeked Sunbird (Anthreptes singalensis) that was attracted to its own reflection from her car’s side mirror (left). The bird thought there was another male around.

“He was very fierce then. He kept pecking at the reflection of himself and vigorously jumping here and there… and then kept scratching at his own reflection again and again… he was doing such stuff for more than 30 mins.

“…He climbed to the top of the mirror, kept chirping very loudly…

“He kept pecking, scratching at his own image vigorously… jumping up and down…

“Haiyoh… if the side mirror is made of fragile glass, surely it would shatter.

“I heard of many reports of birds during their migration flights when they accidentally hit the building glass and ooops…. they die. Those are usually birds that migrate at night eg. Black-backed Kingfisher(Ceyx erithacus) and Yellow-rumped Flycatcher (Ficedula zanthopygia).

As Veery commented on the earlier post, “such behaviour is so universal and great fun to watch.” Yes, it is fascinating, seeing so many different species behaving the same way the moment they see their reflection. If anyone has images of other species, please send them over. We will be happy to post them.

Input and images by Susan Wong Chor Mun. Her original posting is HERE.

Johnny Wee returned from Perth, Australia recently and sent in these images of a crow acting aggressively when confronted by its image in the car’s side mirror. Yes, all over the world birds react the same when they see their image on a shiny surface.

While on this subject, I am also posting two other images sent in earlier – one on the Long-tailed Shrike (Lanius schach) by Dr Jonathan Cheah Weng Kwong (below left) and the other on the Oriental Pied Hornbill (Anthracoceros albirostris) by Allan Teo (below right).

Readers are referred to a number of earlier posts on other species of birds and their reactions to their own reflections 1, 2.

Input by Johnny Wee; images by Johnny (crow), Dr Jonathan Cheah Weng Kwong (shrike) and Allan Teo (hornbill).

There are several species of birds in Malaysia that are often seen flying in pairs. Some pair for life, some for several seasons and some just a single season only. The Yellow-vented Bulbul (Pyconontus goiavier) is just about the most frequently seen paired resident species in my area and this particular pair catches my eye for some particular reason (below). They became frequent visitors and nesters in my private garden balcony the last few years that we decided to name them Laurie and Laura. The birds took up residence besides a family of White-rumped Munias (Lonchura striata). Every hanging fern species that thrives in the balcony carries a nesting history. Some of the nests were made over from previous season. Last year, no nesting was observed. While the environment remained peaceful and conducive to raising their brood, Laurie and Laura did not bring in any nesting materials. I began wondering why and soon found out.

Since last September 2006, tinkling sounds, ‘tink.-tink-tink’ were heard coming from the driveway. Initially I passed then off to be a dribbling garden tap with droplets of water hitting a hollow tin can. It continued intermittently during the daytime and for several consecutive days until the sounds got into my nerves’ edge and I simply had to investigate.

A fascinating and entertaining observation of endearing avian showmanship followed. It was Laurie, the male Yellow-vented Bulbul who flew into the driveway and became fascinated with the winged mirror of my parked vehicle (above). He perched and stared so hard onto the shiny chromed mirror as though to say, ‘I wish, I wish… mm… Am I the most handsome guy in town?’ Laurie was not alone. He flew in with Laura but she decided to take to a more discreet and observation perch on the Christmas tree, about 15 feet away. Laurie with his broad and black loral stripe, stared into the mirror and saw another competitor, a look alike and furiously began pecking vigorously at the chromed mirror. He was pecking at a brown feathery bird - his own reflection! Over the period of weeks, Laurie became extremely obsessed with the winged mirror – his competitor. He continued relentlessly to impress Laura and showed off his skills of showmanship by roll flying around the mirror, performing balancing tricks, tap dancing and doing the flamenco, ballet and butterfly stance to just name a few (above). He was working and trying very hard to be the hero. Occasionally, Laurie would pause to await and listen for the approval of ‘Bravo! Bravo!’ coming from Laura’s chirping calls (above). Laurie would courteously give a bow showing his broad striped dark crown and threw a deep side glance at his ‘competitor’ as if to say, ‘Hey! This is my territory and that’s my gal, so clear off! Laurie did not fail to soil the mirror to get the message over and would end his performance by shining his yellow vent at my scope to ensure I did not miss out his bright rear plumage (above).

Is this a kind of challenging courtship display or is Laurie a weirdo with an obsession? I wonder if Laura is tired of seeing Laurie’s repeated performances. He was unperturbed by the family’s pet dog who had seen them all and more often than I had witnessed. She would just lie in the garage, her right ear cocked up and eyes rolled to the rhythm of Laurie’s performances just 8 feet away. At times, I could hear her sighed aloud as if to say, ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake not again, bird!’

My camera certainly did not give up that easily but provided additional silhouette shots through my spotting scope to look like an evening performance of a Yellow-vented Bulbul, romancing his beau with a repertoire of courtship tap dancing! I found out these birds disliked my ornamental Chinese bronzed bells with red tassels hung in the balcony garden, beginning of last year. I had them removed recently. Soon enough, they both flew in to prospect a new nesting site.

It was ‘Home Sweet Home….’

SUBMITTED BY: DAISY O’NEILL (Avian Writer), PENANG, MALAYSIA.
21st January 2007

Check out our earlier postings on how birds react when they see their reflections on a mirror: (1 and 2).

“I was just looking at the information regarding the Lesser Coucal (Centropus bengalensis) from Ria Tan’s webpage. This is one bird that I have not seen in a long time.

“When I first moved to Loyang in 1987, it’s distinctive three-note call was what haunted me. It was a sound that I used to hear as a kid in my grandma’s place that came from the sprawling field of lallang grass (Imperata cylindrica) beyond the boundary of our large colonial bungalow. It was beyond my territory.

“Looking out from my bedroom window in Loyang Valley, a similar big expanse of lallang filled the landscape that was part of the old Selarang Camp. A few dead trees in the middle of the lallang and that was all there was. You can even hear the lallang blades swishing in the wind. It was here that I caught my first sight of the coucal. The final link of the haunting call to the bird was when I saw it call from the dead tree in the middle of the patch.

“I really liked the graceful way the bird flies – effortlessly, just above the lallang and then just dropping right into the thick of it and disappearing.

“Since then, whenever I hear that haunting three-note call, I would park myself at the window, scanning the lallang for a fleeting glimpse of the coucal.

“After they cleared the lallang and rebuilt the camp, I heard the call no more.

“Years passed. In 1999 I was on a cab from Changi Airport on the East Coast Parkway heading towards town. Just as we reached the point where Tanah Merah Golf Club and Laguna Golf Club border the ECP, I saw a bird attempting to fly across the expressway heading for Tanah Merah’s side of the ECP. The distinctive gracefulness of the flight was unmistakable, as well as its tendency to stay low even in flight. That was its mistake.

“From the back seat of the cab, I was crossing my fingers. Its projected flight path took it right into the path of the taxi. I knew it was not going to make it. Anxious seconds passed. This was closest I had ever been to a coucal and yet I wished it was further away. The bird never knew what hit it. It hit the top right corner of the windscreen and as I turned back I wished it had hit harder. The poor bird was in its last throes of death right in the middle of the ECP. Its bright chestnut plumage that I so admired was a tangled mess flapping in the centre of the road. I wished its last moments had not been so drawn out.

“It was about that time that I had first thought of realising my lifelong dream of becoming a pilot. I sat in the taxi and thought that the bird’s dramatic end was a sign for me to forget about becoming a pilot, that you are definitely not going to make it. If it was some pigeon or mynah, I might not have taken it seriously. And if it was a crow I probably would have gone straightaway to buy a lottery ticket. But the coucal, a bird that I so admired and have not seen in ages, was a different story.”

Contributed by Jeremy Lee, image by Ashley Ng.