Each evening a flock of blue-and-gold macaws drops onto Karem Guevara’s windowsill in Caracas. The birds squawk, stretch and accept sunflower seeds and banana slices from the small-business owner who has been feeding them from her living room for five years. She says they sometimes bring their chicks, a sign the birds trust her and have made the city home.
Though not native to Caracas, these macaws have become a common urban sight over the last two decades. Hundreds now soar above the capital, their bright plumage and raucous calls familiar to residents. Many people leave food on balconies and in gardens, and the birds have come to symbolize the city for some locals.
That bond is now under threat as city crews remove aging royal palms, known locally as chaguaramo, which the macaws depend on for nesting. Maria Lourdes Gonzalez, a biologist at Simon Bolivar University who studies the birds, warns that the population could fall sharply if breeding sites vanish. The macaws do not build twig nests; they nest inside cavities in old, partly hollowed trunks, and in Caracas they appear to use only the chaguaramo for that purpose.
Gonzalez recognizes the safety reasons behind the removals: decaying palms can drop heavy fronds or topple, and municipalities often cut them down to beautify parks and reduce hazards. But she says that policy also eliminates the very cavities the birds need to raise a new generation. Without suitable nesting holes, breeding will decline.
The macaws were likely introduced to Caracas in the 1970s when pet owners released birds that proved noisy or difficult to keep. The city’s mild climate, surrounding wooded hills that supply fruit and seeds, and the absence of native predators such as harpy eagles and monkeys helped the released birds survive and reproduce. The introduced royal palms provided nesting sites that allowed the population to establish itself.
Gonzalez estimated about 400 blue-and-gold macaws in the city after a census a decade ago, but she lacks funding to repeat the count. With a public university salary of roughly $160 a month, she cannot afford the gasoline to travel widely for surveys. She plans to rely on volunteers this time, adapting the methodology to what resources she has.
Photographer Mabel Cornago, who has fed and photographed macaws for 15 years, says it would be terrible to see their numbers drop. She has taken tens of thousands of images and sells prints to shops catering to Venezuelans abroad who want reminders of home. For many residents, she says, the birds have become like angels—bright, familiar presences in a city that has faced hard times.
The clash between public safety and wildlife conservation poses a difficult dilemma for Caracas: how to protect people from hazardous trees while preserving the specific, scarce features urban wildlife need to survive. Without targeted measures to conserve or replace suitable nesting sites, the macaws that have become part of the capital’s character could dwindle.