For the past 3 days a pair of Common Myna birds have been in process of building a nest in the coconut tree at the roadside corner of our property -- and another pair of Mynas don’t like it at all. Throughout the day, loud violent clashes occur. Synchronized “attacks” come from both high and low, and as the mating pair get the squeezed to leave, they fight back with tenancy.
Mynas make the coolest sounds, especially in excited moments of the fray. Mynas are loud; they screech, they squeal, they make popping and clicking sounds. They even make this sarcastic chuckling sound as they fly off. Kinda scary little buggahs, actually.
According to the Hawaii Audubon Society, the Common Myna was introduced to Hawaii from India in 1865. Mynas are abundant in Kapahulu. And they can be quite comical. They have a goofy gait: instead of hopping like most birds, they walk (and sometimes run), one foot at a time. They perch on lamp poles and on the gutter of our roof and behave like bossy overseers.
A few times a day, I’ve been drawn out onto the deck to see the commotion -- loud, violent nosedives, but a wonderful reminder of nature in management mode. I’ve come out to see a puff of tiny feathers fly and a few cool loop-de-loops from plumeria to coconut tree; coconut tree to plumeria.
On day 3, the nest-building looked complete, but the protesters were back for a final launch. Physical contact this time: clutched together, two rivals tumbled to the ground as their mates cried out in disapproval! And suddenly, pau. The competitors split. A swift exist, a hard left arc around the Namba’s house and gone. Wow....
I was amazed. I parked myself at the railing, close to the tree. Mr. Myna did like that; he squealed a high-pitched warning from a high palm frond. I looked directly at him. “Wait a minute buddy-boy,” I said, “this is my house; I pay the mortgage. Wanna use the tree, no prob, but don’t threaten me bucko.”
Mr. Myna hissed, I swear, and flew up then dive-boomed me!
“You can’t attack a quad with glasses!” I booked it down the ramp to the driveway. Wrong move. Mr. Myna now had me in open territory. I saw him round the avocado tree and swoop in for another hit.
“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!” I felt the flap of his wings on my balding head! I turned for the ramp. Again, another dive at me! I’m thinking Alfred Hitchcock, The Birds; Robert Redford, Condor.... Get me outta here!
I made it back into the house and here is where I stay: a quad shut-in. Homebound. Confined to my wheelchair. And here I shall remain, in fear of the outdoors, at least until the Myna kids grow up and fly off.