London's Wild Parakeets: The Feral Flock That Turned Hyde Park Into a Tropical Surprise

If you've walked through Hyde Park recently and had a vivid green bird drop onto your shoulder without warning, you're not alone—and the photo opportunity it creates is genuinely absurd. London's feral rose-ringed parakeets have become one of the city's most charismatic and divisive wildlife stories, and their fearlessness around humans is at the heart of it.

The Parakeets That Claimed London

The rose-ringed parakeet (Psittacula krameri) is native to sub-Saharan Africa and South Asia, but a wild population has thrived in Greater London for decades. Best estimates put the UK feral population at well over 50,000 birds, heavily concentrated in southwest London parks—Richmond, Kew Gardens, and Hyde Park chief among them.

How they got here is the subject of cheerful urban myth:

• One story claims Jimi Hendrix released a pair on Carnaby Street in the 1960s to "liven up" the city.
• Another blames escaped birds from the set of The African Queen filmed at Isleworth Studios in 1951.
• The ornithological consensus is more mundane: a gradual accumulation of escaped or released pet birds over many years, with the population hitting a self-sustaining critical mass by the 1990s.

Whatever the origin, they are now firmly established. The UK government lists them as a naturalised species, and their bright lime-green plumage against grey London skies has made them an unlikely emblem of the city.

Why They Land on You

The parakeets in central London parks—particularly Hyde Park and Kew—have been hand-fed by visitors for so long that they've essentially lost their fear of humans. Bring nuts or seeds and they will land on your arm, your head, or your camera. Bring nothing and they'll occasionally land anyway, apparently out of curiosity or optimism.

This is not trained behaviour—it's a population-level adaptation to a specific urban environment. The birds that were bolder around humans got more food, raised more chicks, and passed that boldness on. Over a few generations, you end up with a flock that treats park visitors as mobile snack dispensaries.

The result, from a photography standpoint, is that anyone standing in the right spot on a sunny afternoon can end up looking like a very convincing pirate, a Disney character, or both simultaneously—no costume required.

Are They a Problem?

Opinions are sharply divided:

Critics argue:

• Parakeets compete aggressively with native species—particularly nuthatches, starlings, and lesser spotted woodpeckers—for tree cavity nest sites.
• Their large communal roosts are loud and produce significant quantities of droppings.
• Some farmers in the southeast report crop damage.

Defenders counter:

• Long-term studies have found limited measurable impact on native bird populations so far.
• They add genuine biodiversity to an otherwise heavily managed urban landscape.
• They've become a tourist draw and a source of joy for millions of park visitors.

The UK's nature agency Natural England has periodically explored control measures, but public attachment to the birds makes large-scale culls politically toxic.

A Small Reminder That Cities Are Ecosystems

London's parakeets are a useful corrective to the idea that urban spaces are ecological dead zones. The city's parks host over 100 bird species, urban foxes are everywhere, and the Thames has recovered enough to support seals and even occasional porpoises. The parakeet is just the loudest, greenest, most photogenic example of nature doing what it always does—finding a gap and filling it.

If one lands on your shoulder in Hyde Park, the correct response is to hold very still and let someone photograph it. You've earned the moment.