‍DALLAS — Birds are the first aviators. The first modern birds, characterized by toothless beaks and powerful flight, appeared during the Cretaceous period, long before we began to sketch wings on parchment or riveted metal into fuselages.

Over our heads, Aves' aerial highways intersect with the busiest air corridors on Earth, making the story of the overlap of bird migration and aviation operations one of science, safety, and survival.

Airplanes and birds share the skies, sometimes with deadly consequences. Consider the Jeju Air crash at Muan Airport (South Korea) in December 2024: the pilots reported “a bird strike” on final approach, and seconds later the Boeing 737 belly-landed and crashed into an embankment, killing all but two of the 179 people on board. 

Or recall the famous “Miracle on the Hudson.” In January 2009, US Airways Flight 1549 flew into a flock of Canada geese after taking off from New York; both engines failed, but Captain “Sully” Sullenberger safely ditched the Airbus in the river, saving all 155 souls. 

These incidents – one nearly catastrophic (the other miraculously averted – highlight a persistent global hazard. In fact, wildlife strikes have killed hundreds worldwide and destroyed dozens of aircraft over the past few decades. With bird populations rebounding (some large North American species grew from ~55 million to 89 million between 1990 and 2018) and more jets in the sky, experts warn that the problem is growing. 

Around the world, aviation authorities record thousands of bird strikes per year (the FAA counts about 54 bird strikes daily in the U.S.); roughly 90% occur below 500 feet during takeoff or landing.

Disclaimer: While the Jeju Air Flight 7C2216 crash involved a confirmed bird strike, investigations are still ongoing. The bird strike is considered a contributing factor, but it has not been officially confirmed as the sole cause of the accident.

A Worldwide Hazard: Key Incidents, Stats

Bird strikes are not confined to one region. In recent years alone, they’ve made headlines across the globe. Notable cases include:

• Alaska (1995) – An E-3 AWACS surveillance plane took off from Elmendorf AFB and flew into a large flock of Canada geese. Two engines failed on takeoff, and the aircraft crashed into trees, killing all 24 on board.
• Iberia Flight IB-579 (2025, Madrid–Paris) – Just 20 minutes after takeoff, the plane sustained a severe bird strike that tore a gaping hole in its nose and filled the cabin with smoke. Passengers donned oxygen masks amidst panic, but the crew managed to make an emergency landing back in Madrid, and no injuries were reported.
• Pune Airport, India (2022–2025) – Over the past three years, Pune Airport has seen some 120 bird strike incidents, including one where an Air India Express Airbus A320 had to abort takeoff due to right-engine damage. Poor garbage management in nearby areas has attracted flocks, raising alarm for both civilian and IAF operations.

Beyond these, minor strikes happen daily. Aviation databases log dozens of strikes every hour worldwide – most harmless, but each one a warning. The latest ICAO safety data even flagged bird strikes as “the leading cause of fatalities” in aviation for 2024, underscoring that this is no niche issue. 

Globally, since 1988, more than 290 people have been killed by wildlife strikes and over 270 aircraft destroyed. In the U.S. alone, 24 bird-strike events (involving larger birds) were linked to fatalities from 1990 to 2023. These sobering figures underscore the stakes as flight volume and bird populations rise.

At high speed, even a single bird can act like a cannonball. Fortunately, catastrophic outcomes—such as the dual-engine failure of US Airways 1549 or the fatal crash of the AWACS in 1995—are rare. Nonetheless, collision damage can range from shattered windshields to dented fuselages and jammed sensors. 

Engineers note that jet engines are “particularly sensitive” to bird ingestion, and even light birds can cause a compressor stall or break turbines. 

For instance, Flight 1549’s engines ingested 8-pound geese – far beyond the 2.5-pound standard used in certification tests – and unsurprisingly, both engines failed. Small planes fare a bit better: their slow speeds mean most single-bird hits cause only minor damage. But in the worst case, “a bird penetrating bullet-like through the windshield could cause serious injury”. Pilots are trained to “fly the airplane first” if a strike occurs, then land and inspect damage safely on the ground.

Seasonal, Migratory Patterns: When Birds and Jets Collide

So what’s the science behind this? Why can’t jets just evade birds on their flight path, and why don’t birds avoid planes? The answer lies in biology, geography, and timing.

Bird strikes aren’t just random accidents that happen throughout the year. They tend to follow the same rhythm as bird migrations. A 2024 global study examining 122 airports across 16 countries revealed a strong seasonal pattern: strike numbers increase when birds are most active. In the Northern Hemisphere, late summer and autumn usually see the worst spikes. That’s when millions of young birds are taking off for the very first time, not fully skilled in navigation or endurance.

In the Southern Hemisphere, the pattern is slightly different, with peaks occurring earlier, between late spring and early summer. The curve is also flatter, since the southern continents are more water-dominated and don’t have the same huge overland migration routes as the north. But in the end, it’s simple—more birds flying means more chances of hitting airplanes.

Altitude adds to the problem. Most migrating birds fly between 2,000 and 5,000 feet, right in the zone where aircraft are climbing or coming down. Geese and cranes have even been tracked flying above 25,000 feet, right where airliners cruise. On top of that, many birds travel in flocks, so one strike could mean dozens of birds hitting at once, which is way more dangerous for engines and fuselage.

Geography makes things sharper. Birds don’t just wander; they follow fixed “flyways” shaped by rivers, coastlines, and mountains. The East Asian–Australasian Flyway, for example, is one of the busiest on Earth, with millions of shorebirds flying from Siberia down to Australia. 

Stopover sites, such as South Korea’s Saemangeum tidal flats or India’s Chilika Lake, can attract hundreds of thousands of birds in a single season. If an airport lies near these pathways, the risk of strikes shoots up. It’s the same in North America, where the Mississippi Flyway cuts across big hubs like Chicago O’Hare (ORD).

And then climate change makes it even more unpredictable. Warmer springs in Europe are pushing stork and swallow migrations forward by weeks, sometimes disrupting the timing of airport safety measures. Rising seas are drowning tidal flats and coastal stopovers, forcing birds to shift routes, often in ways no one expected. That means an airport that used to be safe might suddenly find itself at the center of a new migration corridor.

The outcome? A moving target. Wildlife managers are now adjusting patrol schedules, utilizing radar to track bird flocks, and even adjusting flight times during peak migration. It’s a tricky balance to keep, because unlike storms or turbulence, bird traffic is alive, unpredictable, and directly tied to nature.

But keeping skies safe doesn’t just mean tracking bird flocks; it also means thinking about the landscapes that draw them in the first place.

Balancing Conservation and Safety

A paradox emerges: wetlands and fields that attract birds, being feeding grounds and nesting areas, are often prime real estate for airports. Notably, this has led to clashes between development and conservation efforts. In South Korea, scientists have publicized the conflict plainly: the proposed new airport at Saemangeum would destroy the last tidal flat along the flyway, a stop for some 330,000 migrating shorebirds each year (including dozens of endangered species). 

These researchers warned that this isn’t just bad ecology: “placing an airport in such a critical bird habitat violates international aviation safety standards,” they argued, given the exceptionally high strike risk. In other words, building amid a superhighway of birds endangers both wildlife and people.

Other regions have responded differently. Around New York’s airports, officials chose extermination. Bird biologists and port authorities there adopted a “zero tolerance” policy for Canada geese. New York’s mayor famously declared, “It’s geese or human beings… I can tell you where I come out on that”. State wildlife agencies began culling thousands of resident geese and oiling eggs to trim the population. 

They also altered landscaping: letting grass grow taller, planting plants that geese dislike, removing standing water and food sources, and even running trained dogs, falconry teams, and pyrotechnics to flush flocks. These measures have made NYC’s skies noticeably safer (though at a conservation cost).

                             Canada Geese. Photo: Ethan Hermawan/Airways

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Worldwide, airports and regulators try to strike a balance. Many countries forbid the indiscriminate killing of migratory birds. So, bird hazard management usually emphasizes passive controls and deterrence, including habitat modification (such as eliminating open trash heaps or ponds), visual and sound scares (like propane cannons, lasers, trained eagles, or dogs), and improved reporting and planning. 

ICAO now urges every nation to track wildlife strikes: during 2016–2021, some 273,000 bird and animal strikes were logged globally (a 280% jump over prior years). Sharing data helps identify hotspot species and seasons, allowing local teams to focus their efforts. At the same time, airports work with conservationists to mitigate impact. 

For example, if a vital wetland must stay near an airport, flight paths and schedules may be adjusted in season to avoid peak bird traffic. In short, safety and conservation must cooperate: keeping planes clear of dangerous flocks while protecting vital ecosystems.

Engineering and Operational Defenses

The aviation industry has built multiple technical defenses against bird strikes. All commercial jet engines must undergo certification tests that simulate real encounters with birds in flight. Instead of a single weight standard, engines are now tested against several categories: large single birds (up to 8 pounds), medium flocking birds (about 1–2 pounds each), and small flocking birds (around 1 ounce each). The goal isn’t to make engines “bird-proof”, that’s impossible, but to ensure they can either keep running safely or shut down without causing a disaster after swallowing birds of different sizes. 

Designers mitigate this by reinforcing fan blades and using multiple engines, but encounters above test limits can still cause thrust destruction. Airframes get safeguards too: windscreens and cockpits are built to deflect small birds (or shatter safely), and fuel tanks/tubes are shielded from hoof prints and beaks.

Operationally, pilots and air traffic control keep a lookout. Tower controllers often alert crews to nearby flocks; pilots are trained on immediate procedures (for instance, throttle down gradually and climb away if struck). Many airports monitor bird activity with radar or observers; if large birds gather, runways can be closed or flights spaced out. Wildlife biologists patrol the areas around takeoff/landing sites. 

Military installations, which also encounter wildlife, take an additional step. Following the Alaska crash, the U.S. Air Force implemented aggressive wildlife control measures and even relocated some runways away from areas where geese roosted. 

Remarkably, aviation experts report that jet fighters can be especially vulnerable – over the decades, “the Air Force has lost more F-16s to birdstrikes than any other aircraft,” one specialist noted.

In the end, though, most bird hits are glancing blows that cause no injury. Airlines accept a certain level of cost: minor repairs, engine inspections, and occasional emergency returns occur every year. However, breakthroughs continue: researchers are testing avian radar that can detect large flocks in real-time, relaying alerts to pilots. 

Lasers and even drones are being trialed to herd birds safely away. And acoustic warnings (broadcast bird alarm calls) have shown promise in scattered studies. The goal is to keep nature’s airshows off runways and flightpaths, without harming the birds more than necessary.

Conclusion: An Ongoing High-Altitude Balancing Act

Bird strikes will never disappear. In fact, with climate change shifting migration routes and timing, and with more jet flights resuming post-pandemic, the risk may even grow. The ICAO Safety Report explicitly warns that wildlife strikes – and specifically bird strikes – remain a “persistent ground-level threat,” especially at takeoff and landing. 

Every new incident reinforces the lesson: aviation must work hand-in-hand with environmental science. Experts urge constant improvement – including better habitat planning around airports, smarter radar, and international data sharing – to predict and prevent collisions. 

While the mid‑1990s to 2018 saw remarkable rebounds in some North American bird populations with large species rising from roughly 55 million to 89 million, the picture today is more complicated. Recent analyses indicate that many species are now experiencing a decline in numbers. The 2025 State of the Birds report highlights a 30% (roughly) drop in North American birds since 1970, with the steepest declines observed in grassland and arid-land birds.

For aviation, this means that the skies remain a moving target, where safety measures must adapt not just to predictable migrations but also to unexpected ecological changes. 

When a tiny sparrow takes flight, it becomes part of a vast and complex challenge that intersects ecology and engineering. The story of shared skies is far from over: balancing the safety of air travelers with the protection of birdlife will remain a delicate, high-flying task for years to come!