The next time you walk out of a grocery store to find your freshly waxed car spotted with white blobs of bird poop and curse the glossy obsidian-hued birds nesting on a power line above your head, I would like you to remember one thing about this species. They are smart. As members of the icterid family (blackbirds), all subspecies—Common Grackle, Great-Tailed, and Boat-Tailed, plus numerous subspecies —have endured decades of human hatred and still have managed to thrive. Alfred Hitchcock depicted them as evil murderers of schoolteachers and kids. They are not. There is not a bird therapist in the world who would confirm that.
Instead, great-tailed grackles have used that emotional abuse as a means of survival. Thanks to the invention and proliferation of modern power lines near bright light sources, where these gregarious warriors thrive. If you don’t believe me, drive around Dallas between the months of October and March and check out major intersections or open parking lots near restaurants and grocery stores. (The Central Market on Lovers Lane is a particular hot spot.) You won’t have to drive far.
I admit the ear-piercing screeches and their cold, beady yellow eyes, deep in a permanently grimaced face, don’t scream “cuddle me”. But the evil stares, combined with inquisitive turns of the head, show other birds they mean business. They will peck and claw at sweet songbirds for a morsel of bread. But before we write them off as weird, demonic creatures, let’s look into their story.
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A grouping of grackles is often called a "plague" or an "annoyance."
Great-tailed grackles, the most common subspecies in our region, have an illustrious history. After hours of poring through early records of European birds, I stumbled on a little-known fact. I discovered a man named Auitzotl (b. 1486, d. 1502). He was an Aztec emperor in the ancient Valley of Mexico. Auitzolt had a thing for great-tailed grackles. Please note that I didn’t invent this story; I have a peer-reviewed publication that supports the fact that he loved great-tailed grackles. Maybe he looked like one. I am not here to judge his motivations. Auitzotl must have adored the glossy head feathers that glowed in iridescent shades of purple and blue as the sun sank in the sky beyond the maize fields of Central Mexico. Who knows how he came to love these birds? They were not a native species to his empire.
Having an emperor get his way, even if it is just rearranging the natural order a tad, may not seem like a big deal. However, according to my source, Bernardino de Sahagún (b. 1499 or 1500), a Franciscan friar who immigrated to Mexico from Spain in 1529, covered the earth-shattering event. He writes that Auitzotl’s actions were the first time in the history of the Northern Hemisphere that humans introduced an exotic species into a new region. Sahagún, a curious soul with a knack for writing about science and natural history, penned the story in the Manuscript of Tlatelolco in 1565. History has looked kindly at Sahagún. Many historical ornithological publications agree that he conducted “the earliest peer-reviewed research in New World ornithology.”
Downtown Dallas Birds grackles on power lines
Grackles in downtown Dallas.
Let’s give these great-tailed grackles another chance. Or a fresh French fry. They’re bluebloods. Champions. They have not only survived, but also because, like us, they are highly adaptable. They are comfortable in urban areas and excel at capitalizing on their surroundings. They know they can find safety in the trees of our local parks or a tree planted in the median of a major roadway. They know a predator is not going to cross a busy road to reach their nest. Clearly, they have a larger IQ than squirrels.
“They love human spaces, “David Hurt, owner of Wild Birds Unlimited on Lovers Lane, says. “Great-tailed grackles are a lot like humans. We thrive in a lot of different environments. We are adaptable, and we spread like crazy. It’s interesting how people are somewhat snobby about the animals and birds they like. I really think their resentment is ‘I don’t want another creature on the planet that behaves like us’.”
Let that soak in before you leave this page.
I would argue, too, that great-tailed grackles deserve our respect because they behave like Texans. They should rename the Dallas Cowboys the Dallas Grackles. Historically, cowboys only fought over women when they were drunk. Grackles are ready to crack the eggs of other bird species and fly away to tell their buddies that they just murdered a family of Eastern Phoebes without pausing for a drink of water.
David Hurt goes one step further. “Grackles are in the same family as Orioles,” Hurt says. “I think we have to reframe our thought process. If we splashed a little yellow or a little orange on them and called them Orioles, nobody would think they were so bad. They’re interesting birds. They have an absolutely striking iridescence, as good as the iridescence on any bird in North America. It’s a mechanical treatment of light, not pigmentation.” Are you seeing how shallow we are?
Now that I, along with a highly respected pro, have convinced you to appreciate these grouchy black birds, you’re probably ready to find some and make amends. Although they live here year-round, the prime time to see them flocking in large numbers runs from October to March. Once the males get a whiff of mating season, they are off to hassle the ladies.
The breeding season for great-tailed grackles is a full-fledged orgy. A mating pair may spend a season together, but most of the males and females prefer promiscuity. And it’s a joyous sight to watch a male grackle throw his shiny head back and raise his tail feathers to attract a female that doesn’t even look up from pecking at a bug on the ground. Now, that’s not just smart, it’s modern thinking on their part.
Author
Nancy Nichols
Nancy Nichols
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Over her 20-year career at D, Nancy has written about food, travel, hockey, and hormones. She was the lead dining critic for 18 years and has the belly to prove it. Nancy is a certified Master Naturalist and avid bird watcher.