Councils spend heavily on grisly yet ineffective methods. Why won’t they consider a proven, low-cost and humane strategy?

By some estimates there are almost 3 million pigeons residing in London, which has the highest pigeon population in the country. Known as “rats with wings”, “flying ashtrays” and “gutter birds”, pigeons do not have popular sentiment on their side. And cities in the UK have an extensive history of attempted pigeon pest control – having tried everything short of an exorcism to remove them – to no avail.

London’s best-known victory in the war against pigeons was self-declared, after an operation in Trafalgar Square in the early 2000s . Ken Livingstone’s city government flew two Harris hawks around the area to “deter” pigeons – although the hawks went further than that, killing 121 pigeons in what ended up being a years-long bloodbath. The blitz cost the city £226,000 . Wildlife activists deemed it an act of unimaginable cruelty. And it did little to permanently cut down pigeon populations. Last year in Manchester at least 81 pigeons were shot and killed by pest control services – employed by Northern Trains – in early morning offensives at Manchester Victoria station. The event is known to some as the Manchester Victoria pigeon massacre .

Sydney Lobe is a freelance writer based between Vancouver and London

Ynys Môn (Anglesey): Their breeding numbers in Wales are so low they could be extinct here in a decade. That makes each sighting all the more precious

The RSPB’s Cors Ddyga reserve is truly bioluxuriant. I am lucky to live nearby and explore it often, but one particular recent visit left us thrilled by its riches, and also posed the tricky question: was there a highlight among so many unforgettable wildlife encounters?

One candidate must be our dusk arrival, by way of a deep-set old lane which drops with natural purpose to the broad marsh below. As we descended, moschatel gave way to meadowsweet. Emerging then from the shadowy track to the sunset brilliance of the reeds, we felt like players emerging from the tunnel into a stadium of light.

Chemicals known to affect brains of common garden birds, and to kill unborn chicks, found in most feather samples

Conservationists have called for restrictions on pet flea treatments after research found songbird feathers widely contaminated with substances that can damage the birds’ brains and kill unborn chicks.

Almost every feather sample tested from five common species of UK garden birds contained either permethrin, imidacloprid or fipronil – all insecticides that are banned for agricultural use but still common in pet tick and flea treatments.

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Britain’s swift population fell by two-thirds between 1995 and 2023. Make their lives a little easier with a bit more food and more places to nest

Swifts are wheeling, screaming endurance athletes. They don’t touch the earth for nine months of the year and fly about 14,000 miles annually – travelling from sub-Saharan Africa to nest in the UK, then back again. In Britain, they’re the sign that summer is coming or taking its leave. In between, they provide a heart-soaring display of beauty. No wonder they’re beloved.

“Swifts spark joy,” says Hannah Bourne-Taylor , a passionate swift advocate and author of Nature Needs You: The Fight to Save Our Swifts .

From balloon arches at parties to mass balloon releases at funerals, these bits of floating rubber and plastic can have disastrous effects on wildlife. As some retailers are refusing to sell them, here are some alternatives

I remember, as a child, hanging on to one specific party balloon for what seemed like years. I don’t remember how or where I acquired it, but it had initially floated high, bobbing against the ceiling, and, over time, lost its buoyancy, coming to rest on the carpet. Yet, when a family friend asked if they should pop the now sad-looking balloon, I assumed they were joking – like when an adult asks, teasingly, if they should eat your last slice of birthday cake – and was distraught when they followed through. I didn’t care that it had become grubby and partly deflated – I’d had that balloon for what felt like for ever.

This, it turns out, is the problem with many balloons. Not that clingy young children might become over-attached to them, but that they are often a single-use plastic – and even biodegradable alternatives such as latex balloons do not decompose quickly , meaning they can pose a significant risk to wildlife and the environment. In 2019, scientists found that balloons eaten by seabirds are more likely to kill them than other kinds of plastic – yet they do not seem to have been earmarked in the same way as, for example, plastic straws. If anything, balloon-based decor has become more popular in recent years , with balloon arches or tunnels deployed not just at birthdays but at events ranging from baby showers to shop openings. Balloon drops are used at New Year’s Eve celebrations and graduation parties, and balloon releases have also endured – particularly at funerals, where the unleashing of helium-filled balloons signifies the letting-go of a loved one.

Dartmoor, Devon: This one is an early-arriver after spending winter in sub-Saharan Africa, and it’s keen to show off its ‘white arse’

The first signs of spring shine through the shadow of Haytor Rocks , a granite guard of Dartmoor’s natural secrets. The sun’s heat warms the granite, the first bumblebees thrum over the gorse. After months of mizzly rain, it was freeing to be out on the moor again. The trees were awakening, early emergers blackthorn and willow, stalwarts of Emsworthy Mire – an old friend.

With binoculars pressed tight to my eyes, I scan the valley, searching for any sign of returning migrants. Mid-March is too early for some, but the more proactive species love to start the season early. A raven cronks overhead, a sound as welcoming as it is unnerving.

The Marches, Shropshire: The call of the chiffchaff and the turning of the allotment soil – these are seasonal rituals honed over time

A pair of ravens, barking mad, perform their shuttling flight in glorious sunshine above Old Racecourse Common. A charm of chaffinches flash white wing-bars through the shadows of mossy willows around the pond. A queen red-tailed bumblebee orbits a hedgebank boundary stone, then buzzes off to feed on gorse flowers or prospect for possible colony chambers below.

A lesser-spotted woodpecker hammers out rapid bursts of drumbeats from a stand of beech across the misty distances of the hills. Chiffchaffs find their rhythm in the oaks. These constantly repeated two-note phrases are not what they seem when you hear the writer and musician Mark E Smith say of his own work: “It’s not repetition, it’s discipline.” A chiffchaff flies out from tree cover, across the open common, an apparition so slight compared with the powerful, hidden voice, to resume their[pls don’t change to “its” – PF] discipline in further oaks.

The fishery is regulated but experts say it is wrecking the food chain. Gordon Peake joined a Sea Shepherd mission to observe the giant ships compete for catch

It is bitterly cold on the deck of the Allankay and the bosun, Luca Massari, is checking that none of us are wearing contact lenses before we descend into Antarctic waters. There is a risk, he warns, that lenses will freeze solid over the eyes. Massari himself is prepared for his surroundings. He is wearing thick goggles that make him look like an Olympic ski jumper.

Massari is a burly, heavily tattooed veteran of the environmental organisation Sea Shepherd, which campaigns against exploitating the oceans. His deck team are preparing to launch the ship’s small boat, which Massari will helm. Eight of us are bundled in bright red dry suits, helmets and lifejackets; the average time to survive hypothermia in this wind-whipped water is just five minutes.

The Allankay sailed to Coronation Island from New Zealand to document the krill fishing. Photograph: Alice Bacou/Sea Shepherd