Flight or Invisibility?

(Maison des Oiseaux)

The American writer John Hodgman regularly played a game on the American Life radio show called 'flight or invisibility'. He would try to trap various celebrities by asking which of the two superpowers they would prefer, as to him there is a right and wrong answer. As he explains, “flight is the hero; selfless and confident and unashamed, while invisibility is the villain.” This blog is testament to the fact that the adult me has chosen invisibility, but take me back to my childhood and I would have instantly grasped the wings.

For a long stretch of my youth, one of my major interests in life was birds. For a young boy, what’s not to love in a beast that is the living descendant of the dinosaurs? I was a member of the YOC (Young Ornithologists Club) and had a large collection of bird books and a pair of binoculars to observe my feathered friends in the garden. I learned to recognise all of these backyard visitors, and was fascinated by their delicate forms, the pallettes of colours and of course their freedom to flitter and fly, swoop and soar. I grew out of this passion, but what we learn in our tender years stays with us throughout our lives, and I can still identify most birds either by plumage or by song.

The limited ornithological variety of Paris is not a great challenge to my skills. Just about everyone recognises a moineau (sparrow) or a merle (blackbird), but how many city dwellers would recognise a pie-grièche à tête rousse (woodchat shrike) or a jaseur boréal (waxwing) if they popped up in their urban environments? There is one place that the inhabitants of Paris can go to work on their skills though, the ‘Maison des Oiseaux’ situated in the Square Capitan next to the Arènes de Lutece.

Opened in 2007, this facility serves mostly clubs and school parties, but it is also open to the general public each Saturday afternoon from 2.30. Accessible through a small white doorway, this maison is a rather charming converted house, sitting on a little plateau overlooking a children’s play area. The principal attraction of this small space is the main room, crammed with glass cases displaying skeletons, eggs, nests and pellets. To one side, large windows overlook an external garden area that has been specially created to attract birds. Two pairs of binoculars sit waiting on a windowsill, but sadly during my visit no birds present themselves to me for observation.

Listed on a board in this room are all the birds that have been spotted in the adjoining Arènes de Lutece. Apart perhaps from a kestrel, nothing on this list seemed particularly exceptional or interesting. Would I be able to outperform them and spot one of the rarer birds? Bye bye blackbirds, I wanted to spot a stately raven! I wandered around outside, but at half-past three, not a single bird.

According to a document created by the city of Paris, including the Bois de Boulogne and the Bois de Vincennes, 150 varieties of bird can be seen in the city, with 75 of these being nesting varieties. Although my days of spotting and listing are long passed, I don’t believe that I can have seen more than 20 of these in my time in the city. This though is perhaps systematic of a curious French paradox. In this still largely agricultural country, nature is more abundant than in neighbouring lands but also more difficult to spot. Animals hide themselves to avoid hunters, but they also have more space to roam around in. In England, the lack of space has created a proximity to nature, with foxes, squirrels, hedgehogs and sometimes even badgers and deer popping up in urban environments.

In smaller territories animals have to adapt their lifestyles to survive in congested environments, but in France wild beasts can live as they always have. Naturally, this also applies to birds. Why would they choose to visit Paris when the city is surrounded on all sides by vast swathes of agricultural land that is sufficient for their needs? Although the document mentioned above also describes how kestrel and jackdaw tourists have made temporary homes in the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame, the only true city birds are greasy pigeons and sneaky sparrows – the Piafs of this Belle Ville. These are ground feeders though; perhaps in cities having the ability to fly also means that you become invisible.

Feedback:

Would you rather be invisible or have the ability to fly? Give your answer in the survey!

Have you seen any interesting birds in Paris or in other cities?