Anyone that has spent time in the parklands around the suburbs of London during last three decades couldn’t have failed to see (or at least hear) the ring-necked parakeets. Bright green with a red beak, they are noisy and gregarious, even drawing the attention of those with very little interest in birds. In the early 1970s a small population, of mysterious origins, that frequented the gardens of Kingston-upon-Thames started to spread, initially quite slowly, first Richmond, then Kew and onto Hampstead. The large gardens of the wealthier parts of the capital provided rich pickings at the bird-table, and their journey via the stepping stones of the city’s generous parks helped their expansion. By the turn of the new century they were in all of London’s satellite counties.   

My first encounter with them was in late December 1996 during the dying minutes of a close and hard fought game at Esher Rugby Club. In the fading afternoon light, they suddenly appeared, a loud green whirling cloud overhead, at least five hundred ring-necked parakeets. Having gathered for roost, they descended into the tall bushy conifers that enclosed the playing-fields. I stood gobsmacked, and Esher’s unopposed fly-half slipped past me for the winning try. As the years went by I began to see them more frequently, and eventually even in my own garden. I become to feel a little contemptuous towards them – brash, bullying, unnecessarily exotic, and a painful reminder of a lost cup game.      

Moving to Norfolk relieved me of the burden of disliking a species of bird; that is until I heard it once again, here in the centre of Norwich, that piercing kee-et squawk. The ring-necked parakeet is among us and, like elsewhere in the country, is here to stay. My personal prejudice aside, it is a remarkable bird and has a fascinating story attached to its arrival and survival in this country.   

The ring-necked, or occasionally referred to as the rose-ringed parakeet, originates from India and being versatile and adaptable they are distributed across a variety of habitats there, feeding on buds, berries, seeds and nuts. British parakeets always dominate bird-tables, taking whatever kitchen scraps are provided. It is often kept as an aviary bird in the UK, and it’s possible that escapees formed the basis of our feral population. Although, there are many imported birds kept in aviaries and many of them escape, so why did the ring-necks prosper? And why was the initial population concentrated in one area?     

A number of urban myths have circulated for some years concerning the arrival of ring-necks in London, each one told many times over, and like the parakeets, where they originated no one knows. In 1968, songs with wonderfully crafted guitar solos were not the only thing that Jimi Hendrix was releasing. The story has it that during a drug fuelled weekend, and in a symbolic gesture of freedom perhaps, he decided to release his pair of ring-necked parakeets, ironically named Adam and Eve. Was it this breeding pair that led to the tens of thousands of parakeets now living in South-East England?  The other popular fable is that they were either released or escaped from Shepperton Studios during the filming of The African Queen. Shot in 1951, and starring Humphrey Bogart and Kathrine Hepburn, it of course required exotic animals to play along-side them as extras. If this is the origin of our current resident parakeets, then they never actually appeared in the film (I’m reliably informed), although absence of evidence isn’t evidence of absence, they may of escaped before filming started. Some have noted that they couldn’t have survived the long, penetratingly cold, winter of 1962/3, but they survive in the foothills of the Himalayas, so who knows?  

Whatever their roots, they have firmly established themselves as a British breeding bird, and unlike the majority of our native species are continuing to increase in number. There are worrying indications that the spread of the ring-necked parakeets is having a detrimental effect on some native birds. Surprisingly, their often breed very early in the year, capitalising on old woodpecker nests and thus denying them to secondary cavity nesters such as nuthatch and starling, there is even a suggestion that they will forcibly evict great spotted woodpeckers from their newly excavated nests.  

Working in nature conservation I’m only too aware of the devastating consequence of an invasive non-native species can have on a balanced ecosystem, and Norfolk Wildlife Trust is already fighting battles on many fronts. Although, the jury is still out on the ring-necked parakeets arrival in Norfolk, some ornithologists have called for a cull, other experts suggest that it is too early to say whether they are causing a problem or not. Whatever the evidence, the official government line is that ‘...it is not cost effective for a cull.’  The plain fact is that the consequences of human activates on the fortunes of our native birds are substantially worse than any of the ring-necked parakeets’ behaviour.     

Whatever the outcome of their arrival in Norfolk, some people will enjoy seeing this colourful addition to our wildlife and welcome them into our parks and gardens, or like me think they’re a little over exotic to be flying around a rugby pitch. Either way, in our wildlife depleted cities and towns the parakeets are telling a new story, one of survival and the ability to overcome the odds in an increasingly nature hostile world.