Rose-ringed Parakeet

One of my favourite quotes from The Simpsons comes from Springfield’s vet: “I love animals. I spend my life saving them and they can't thank me. Well, the parrots can.” No animals are more famed for their ability to talk than parrots. Sure, their ‘talking’ is more mimicry than witty after-dinner conversation – a feathered echo chamber – but whether they’re chanting ‘pieces of eight’ on a pirate’s shoulder or swearing in front of Auntie Ethel, we humans have been entertained by their backchat for centuries.

There are around 400 species of parrot on our planet. Their native range encompasses pretty much everywhere south of the Tropic of Cancer. For us Brits their beautiful plumage embodies the exotic; the mystery and excitement of faraway lands. So imagine my surprise when I first saw a big green parrot
flying around in Sussex.

The Rose-ringed (or Ring-necked) Parakeet looks ridiculously out of place amongst our comparatively drab Starlings, Wood Pigeons and Crows. With its garish green plumage and red beak, it stands out like a clown who has gate-crashed a funeral. And with that squawk – that incessant, demented squawk – there’s no ignoring it.

South-east England’s Parakeets are among the world’s most northerly parrot populations but how did they get here? Some believe they made their great escape from an East London film studio in 1951, after starring alongside Bogart and Hepburn in ‘The African Queen’. Others claim that the Parakeets were set ‘Stone Free’ by Jimi Hendrix, who liberated them from their plastic cage in his girlfriend’s London flat. I rather like the idea of American sixties icons being responsible for the spread of non-native species across the UK. Perhaps Sonny and Cher smuggled Grey Squirrels in through customs under their furry waistcoats, or a tousle-haired Bob Dylan secretly released some American Mink out of the stage door of the Albert Hall
in ’66.

The truth is, with tens of thousands of Parakeets being imported into the UK it
was no surprise that a few slipped their chains and flew the coop. Since the
end of the sixties these free spirits have been recreating the Summer of Love
across the capital. Forming feral colonies, the Parakeets have filled the air with
their joyous, intolerable screeching and squawking; sounds that would make
Hendrix and Dylan proud. And as for free love, their blatant fornicating in
London’s parks has led to a Parakeet population explosion. They were once
established in the (sub)urban jungle of Brighton and lived in the trees of
Hollingbury from 1977 until the mid-nineties.

Surely it’s only a matter of time before the Rose-ringed Parakeet moves into suburban Sussex.