Belonging in Exile: Monk Parakeets and the City

Monk parakeets, with their green feathers and loud calls, have become a familiar presence across Spanish cities and towns. Their story, from South American origins to urban adaptation, reveals complex truths about wildlife, human influence, and what it means to belong.

An individual monk parakeet surveys the surroundings from the palm’s highest fronds, blending tropical roots with Mediterranean landscapes.

Bright Green at Dusk

I first noticed them at sunset, a flash of green against the soft light of La Herradura. Perched on telephone wires or chattering from palm fronds, the monk parakeets always felt slightly out of place and yet completely at home. They were loud, social, and unmistakable; a tropical presence in a temperate town. I could not help but wonder how they got here, and what their story was.

Clusters of palm berries provide nourishment beneath a sprawling monk parakeet nest, illustrating the close relationship between species and urban flora.

Familiar Strangers

In Spain, monk parakeets (Myiopsitta monachus) are hard to miss. Their lime-green feathers flash through city parks and coastal towns alike, their calls cutting sharply through the urban hum. I had seen them in Málaga, in Barcelona, in Madrid, and here they were too, in this quiet corner of the coast where my parents live. They gather in noisy flocks, clustered on balconies or picking through breadcrumbs in the plaza, just as comfortable in concrete as in trees.

At first glance, they seem almost out of place: too tropical, too loud, too bright. But over time, their presence has become familiar. Locals recognize them, children point to them, and tourists pause to listen to their metallic chatter. They are part of the city soundscape now, woven into the rustle of palms and the hum of traffic.

Their social behavior makes them especially noticeable. Monk parakeets are highly gregarious, often traveling in large groups and engaging in loud, coordinated vocalizations. These calls serve multiple functions, from maintaining group cohesion to warning of predators, and contribute to their strong group identity. In urban environments, these behaviors are amplified. The birds often exploit food resources provided indirectly by humans, from garden fruit trees to food waste in public spaces.

In La Herradura, I saw them at sunset, silhouetted against the pink sky as they flew back to their communal nests. Their return was punctual, as if rehearsed. Despite their alien origins, their routines have grown into the rhythms of this place.

A monk parakeet perched atop a palm tree in La Herradura, Spain.

The Urban Invader: Expansion and Challenges

The monk parakeet is not native to Spain. It evolved in the temperate woodlands and savannas of South America, especially in Argentina, Paraguay, Brazil, and Uruguay. There, it lives in highly social colonies and exhibits one of the most unique behaviors in the parrot world: the construction of large, communal stick nests, often weighing over 100 kilograms and used by multiple breeding pairs at once (Burger & Gochfeld, 2005). Unlike most parrots, monk parakeets build these nests rather than using tree cavities. This architectural skill, paired with a flexible diet and tolerance for cold, has made them unusually successful in non-native environments.

In the 1960s and 70s, the species was exported in huge numbers through the exotic pet trade. Spain, along with other European countries, became a frequent destination. Though the trade was eventually regulated, many birds escaped or were deliberately released. By the early 2000s, naturalized populations had appeared in urban centers like Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, and Málaga. Today, monk parakeets are found in at least 13 Spanish provinces and are expanding rapidly (Senar et al., 2016).

Their adaptability is striking. Monk parakeets thrive in cities because they are opportunistic feeders, consuming fruits, seeds, buds, crops, and human food waste. Their nests are often built on artificial structures (power lines, telephone poles, even stadium lights), which offer safety from predators but also pose risks, including power outages and infrastructure damage.

This success has not gone unnoticed. While many people are charmed by their presence, regional governments have classified monk parakeets as invasive, citing concerns over their impact on native birds, crop damage, and public utilities. In 2013, Spain officially added Myiopsitta monachus to its list of invasive species, permitting controlled culling and nest removal. Between 2019 and 2020, cities like Madrid launched campaigns to reduce their numbers. Although some studies support these concerns, recent reviews argue that the ecological impact of monk parakeets, especially in urban areas, is often overstated and context-dependent (Domènech et al., 2021). Their role may differ greatly depending on landscape, climate, and human management practices.

Yet the ecological impact of monk parakeets remains debated. Some studies suggest that their effect on native species may be limited, and that their role in urban ecosystems is more complex than often assumed. Like other synanthropic species, those that thrive alongside humans, their presence forces us to reconsider how we define ecological balance in anthropogenic landscapes.

A monk parakeet enjoying ripe palm berries, portraying their adaptability to diverse and novel food resources.

What Belongs: Rethinking Invasiveness

The monk parakeets do not know they are out of place. They build, they feed, they raise their young, just as they would have done elsewhere. What we see as invasive, they live simply as survival. And maybe it is not their arrival that is unnatural, but the systems that brought them here: cages, markets, migration shaped by human hands.

Their case highlights a growing tension in conservation science: how to manage non-native species in a rapidly changing world. Some researchers argue that not all introduced species are harmful, and that management strategies should be rooted in context, not just origin (Schlaepfer et al., 2011). In urban areas especially, species like the monk parakeet may fulfill roles in new ecosystems, forming relationships with native birds, plants, and even humans.

There is no easy answer to their presence. They are beautiful, yes. But they are also reminders of how often we move life across borders without thinking of what comes after. In them, I see both joy and consequence.

Still, they are here now. Not in the forests of Argentina or Paraguay, but among olive groves and plazas, pine trees and palms. Their calls echo above rooftops at dusk. I think we owe them more than judgment. We owe them the curiosity to ask how they got here, and the care to wonder what it means that they stayed.

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Before calling a species invasive, ask how it got there and why it stayed. Many carry stories shaped by human hands, not their own. Curiosity is the first step toward a more thoughtful kind of coexistence.

References

Burger, J., & Gochfeld, M. (2005). Nesting behavior and nest site selection in the monk parakeet (Myiopsitta monachus). The Wilson Bulletin, 117(3), 290–295. doi.org/10.1676/04-093.1

Domènech, J., Senar, J. C., Carrillo-Ortiz, J., & Arroyo, L. (2021). Monk parakeet management in urban environments: Balancing public perception, ecological impact, and animal welfare. Urban Ecosystems, 24(4), 841–852. doi.org/10.1007/s11252-021-01076-7

Schlaepfer, M. A., Sax, D. F., & Olden, J. D. (2011). The potential conservation value of non‐native species. Conservation Biology, 25(3), 428–437. doi.org/10.1111/j.1523-1739.2010.01646.x

Senar, J. C., Domènech, J., & Arroyo, L. (2016). An overview of the biology and impact of the monk parakeet (Myiopsitta monachus) in urban areas. Animal Biodiversity and Conservation, 39(1), 9–17. doi.org/10.32800/abc.2016.39.0009