Grackles grackling at the Community Pool
This post will deviate from the usual political commentary and philosophical reflections of a very quixotic and complex mind to bring you some curious observations.
As you may have already guessed from the title, this story will focus on a common, yet strikingly beautiful, bird known as a Great Tailed Grackle. When I say “common,” I mean these birds are everywhere where I live, which is near the Colorado River. They absolutely love the water and have adapted themselves quite nicely to the Arizona suburbs.
This brings us to the community pool. My partner and I have been attending the adult lap swim there, and we see birds congregating there for drink and sometimes merriment. Frequently, I would see Grackles flying and hopping around the pool. Sometimes I would see a male puff himself up, fidgeting his wings, and … well … grackling. He would do this to either intimidate or show off. Either way, it was rather amusing.
Here comes the best part. While resting in between laps, I noticed a brown, presumably female, Grackle running around with a piece of food it gathered from the picnic area right outside the community pool fence. Another smaller brown bird followed with its mouth open chirping loudly. Some other birds joined in. They ran around behind some bench tables nearby. I thought they were fighting over the tiny morsel.
I swam another lap and came back watching the same two birds. I saw them from the far side. The larger one was dipping her beak into the water, taking it in and tending to the smaller bird as if it were her chick. I swam over to them. This time they were one lane over at the edge of the pool with a goldfish cracker. The brown Grackle dunked the cracker in the water, broke it up, and fed the smaller Grackle mouth-to-mouth like a baby chick. Then it occurred to me, “This little brown Grackle must be the chick of the larger one!” I observed the same behaviour with delight. Over and over, the larger adult Grackle tended to the smaller, younger Grackle with selfless devotion, as if they never left the nest. Then something unexpected happened. The small Grackle came hopping over within arm’s length of where I was resting. It surprised my partner, as well. I could clearly see that the smaller Grackle’s adult feathers were not fully formed. She still looked a little scruffy but well-loved.
This young Grackle was quite the acrobat and could competently fly. I even saw her fly up to the black grated fence and grab both rungs with her feet while she surveyed the community park. I have no doubt this bird could take care of herself. So it came as a surprise to see such social behaviour at this stage in development.
As a child, I was told such axioms as, “There’s a time when all children must leave the nest,” and “Sometimes parents must throw their cub into the gorge.” We assume that adult birds no longer care for their young once they are old enough to fly and leave the nest. We assume it is only natural to evict our children once they reached the arbitrary, legal age which convinces us they are competent enough to sever ties and fend for themselves. But the natural world does not always conform to our expectations.
