In Germany there is a popular saying. If you want to say somebody is stupid, you call him a “Spatzenhirn“, which literally translates to “sparrowbrain“ and has the same meaning as the English “birdbrain“. I long find this rather stupid. House sparrows are among the most adaptable species of wildlife. While their smaller sibling, the Eurasian tree sparrow, suffer from loss of habitat, house sparrows conquer our cities, villages or farmhouses from Anchorage tu Ushuaia and from Sydney to Svalbard. They thrive on our leftovers.
This particular individual and around twenty of its specimen came to a tree right in front of my office window for 30 to 60 minutes every day. They sat on the ground picking seeds until something stirred them up. Than they flew into the tree. That made it pretty easy for me.
Dozens and almost hundreds of sparrows besiege the bakery I oft go for lunch in the summer. The little birds wait patiently for a crumb to drop or a piece of crust to be left over. They even venture inside the bakery when its doors are open in warm weather. They precisely distinguish an open glass-door from a closed one and they find their way out with such ease that it almost looks cheeky. I don't know if they suffer from a high percentage of body fat, but they have plenty to eat at least.
My summer holiday led me to Norway. While I was waiting at a harbour to board one of its thousands of ferries to cross a fjord, I beheld to house sparrows – one female, one male – picking the dead insects from the number plates of the waiting cars. They found themselves a brilliant ecological niche. Every 30 minutes, they get fresh food delivered right to their doorstep. So don't say birdbrain anymore. They might turn out smarter than you.