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Ask any modern historian and they will tell you the same thing; Britain has never been invaded by anyone. Ever. The English Channel is siege-proof and the White Cliffs of Dover are impenetrable. This stupendous collection of isles has remained uncolonised and uninterrupted since it tectonically parted from the European subcontinent. This is a fact, trust me. Ignore the Vikings, Normans and Romans, they were just on holiday. What did they ever do for us?
In ecological terms, our ‘native’ wildlife has been peppered over the years by flashy imports turned escapees. As a nation, we’re seemingly great at transporting exotic wildlife but not great at containing them. Someone forgot to check the fence for holes and now we have muntjacs and mandarin ducks. These ‘alien’ colonisers are our own fault, but what if I told you that there was an animal that rocked up on our shores, of its own acord, and conquered every corner of the map?
There is a bird that went from obscurity to abundance in a couple of decades, without anyone pushing them. No one left a cage open, they just decided that Ipswich was better than Istanbul. This bird was nowhere to be seen in 1950 but today is one of the most frequently-seen species in the country.
I am talking, of course, about the mighty Collared Dove.
You know that bland, beige, bored-sounding bird that you sometimes see around? They were once considered rare enough to be an exotic delight that saw birders flock to East Anglia like an archetypal twitch. This mediocre dove was a notable rarity, before it set about its national domination. The important question is, why? And another question, how? Two big questions really.
It’s difficult to pinpoint the exact moment a Collared Bilbo decided to venture onwards but it’s widely regarded that up to the 19th century, these birds were perfectly happy in India and Southeast Asia. By the 1830’s, they had made their way beyond Turkey and into Hungary, where they were first classified by ornithologists. Over the next century, their euro-trip would see them breach the borders of Germany, France and then finally, Britain. We all remember the summer of ‘55 right? Every birder and his dog flocked to North Norfolk to witness an historic event. A species straight from the orient breeding on British shores for the first time ever. Such a noteworthy event, the like of which many may never see again. The thing is, it did happen again. And again. And a few times more. After deciding Norfolk was equally as hospitable as the Middle East, they set up shop and spread their wings, literally. Ireland was next, followed by the Faroe Islands, until they decided that the Atlantic was one long haul too many. (They are found in America but to be clear, that was our fault). Fast forward only 30 years and the collared dove became one of the most abundant birds in all the UK, from 0 to a million in a biological blink of an eye. This once foreign entity is part of the modern-day furniture, as if they’d been here for millennia.
Narrowing down the exact reason as to why these doves made this bonkers decision is tricky, and almost delves into ‘why is the sky blue’ territory. In as simplest terms as I can, they’re simply evolutionarily designed to be very adaptable. Being a pigeon brethren, there was always a predisposed hardiness about them. An efficiently compliant bird, they’re not tied down by a habitat or food source. They’re pretty chill. If you pointed out that the dove’s westward expansion into Europe tracked perfectly with the increased urbanisation of the continent, you’d be about right. With humans came agriculture and with agriculture came bonus feeding opportunities. They would often be found loitering with chickens, hoovering up any loose seed. Urban areas provided unexpected predator protection as well as extra places to nest. There have been collared doves found nesting recently in traffic lights, such as the malleable approach to adulthood. Crucially, there was a vacant niche that was just asking to be filled.
If you combine a generally not-fussed species with the varied climates of Asia, you have the ultimate birding adventurer. You have a creature that can both withstand aridity and frostbite, something that famously temperate Europe can be susceptible to. The one thing that these doves love more than taking over the world is breeding, which also helps. As they’re non-migratory, they’re not held back by the constraints of summer so are capable of multiple broods in a year. They’re down for it, wherever, whenever. When you put it like that, their success really does make sense.
Are they finished? Is their feathered empire complete? In terms of globetrotting, they haven’t made massive strides anywhere else on the same scale they did in the last century. The unrelenting Sahara is probably protecting the rest of Africa and the dense tropics of Indonesia is likely shielding Oceania. The introduced individuals that have been taken across the pond could still tick a few more states off their list but it’s likely there’s tougher competition out there. In the UK, their numbers have remained steady and sit currently under a million pairs, having peaked in the 80’s. Like most garden birds, their population is being tested by disease and habitat degradation. Not even the hardest dove geezers can contend with that.
An incredible feat of invasion, the likes of which we will probably never see again. One could argue that the increased parakeet population is comparable but let’s not forget, they didn’t trek here from the tropics. I love the fact that the BBC receives regular complaints from viewers who hear collared doves cooing in the background of period dramas, such a blatant continuity error. Their dulcet tones are such a synonymous backing soundtrack to the average British day that it’s bananas to think of a time where they were considered an obscure entity. If you think about it, they really do embody our national identity; unassuming, unperturbed, just cracking on. The dove revolution was truly televised.
