October 24

Don’t eat an apple in St. James’s Park unless you’re happy to be mobbed by iridescent -green, loudly-screeching, ring-necked parakeets.

At the last official count in 2012, there were over 32,000 of them all over London. Goodness knows what the tally is now.

The parrots are the subject of almost as many urban myths as there are birds, the choicest being that;

Jimi Hendrix released a breeding pair after a wild night in the 60s.

They escaped from the set of The African Queen- never mind that there are no Parakeets in the film.

They escaped from Victorian aviaries.

Burglars let them out of a secret aviary when they burgled Georgs Michael’s flat in 1990.

They escaped during a drunken argument between Boy George and George Michael in a flat they once shared in Hampstead.

They seem to have increased in number and tameness recently. In St. James’s Park crowds of visitors gather under the Parakeets’ favourite tree (I don’t know and can’t seem to find out, what type of tree it is) and vie to see how many birds they can attract, those having brought only birdseed coming a miserable second to anyone with an apple. A sign appeared close to the tree a while ago advising visitors not to feed them as the droppings from the handfuls of seed were attracting vermin. But this morning, the sign had gone, and the feeders flocked as enthusiastically as ever.

As with everything everywhere , there are dissenters. Some feel they will wipe out our native birds, others that they will strip bare any tree they inhabit. There has even been talk of culling, though seemingly without any enthusiasm. Whatever their crimes (If any) they’re glorious to see – with the brightest green plumage and vivid red beaks. You can hear their piercing shrieks from the entrance to the park, far from their favourite tree and I must admit, beautiful and bold though they are, I wouldn’t fancy them screeching outside my window.

There’s even a book about them” The Parakeeting of London:an adventure in Gonzo Ornithology” by Nick Hunt.