A Close Encounter with a Starling

 This week, the powers that be flicked a switch, and the seasons changed.

In the space of a day, we went from mild weather to strong winds, heavy rain, and a chill in the morning air. The birds have noticed this too. All of a sudden, the goldfinches at work have formed up into their busy, tweeping flock of about 50 birds busy raiding the teasel. The local kestrel presumably having bred is back at work hover hunting over the grassland, and then there are the starlings. 

A flock of about 80 birds have arrived on campus, skittish, carrying out mini murmurations as the afternoon draws on. We used to have a big roost of pied wagtails here, and I'm hoping that we might see starlings adopt our workplace as their overnight haunt too, wishing that we get huge formations of these intelligent, noisy birds performing their teardrop aerobatics over the unlikely vistas of car parks and industry. 

I was out on my lunchtime walk when I encountered one of these starlings feeding by the wildflower mini-meadows I helped create. It was so unafraid I felt it must be a juvenile bird entering its first winter; it let me get to three metres away without being remotely perturbed as it probed the ground with its beak for food.

Attracting odd glances from passers-by, I dropped to my belly and wormed my way closer, to about a metre and a half, admiring the beautiful green and purple irridescense from its plumage, and with my mobile phone, actually managed to get half decent photographs of a songbird. 

All the while it tweeted conversationally, as if asking who this huge purple clad interloper was.

It was an encounter I badly needed.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 30.09.21

The proudest of finches

Running today, on a route out towards Barnby (A heron majestically cruised above me) before heading into Coddington village before back to town through the Beacon Hill reserve before a little trot along the river. About 7 and a half miles in all.

Everywhere, in either hedgerow, or stand alone tree form, Hawthorns are in bloom - May Blossom as my mother refers to it. There's a few gorse bushes about as well on the way up to Coddington, again in flower. Due to high winds and not terribly warm temperatures all the butterflies must have been indoors reading Heat magazine - the wind also played havoc with my ear phones and frankly seemed to be making my trackies nearly fall down - ah the joys of weight loss...

Like I said, not a lot going on, swallows around but no swifts yet, I took the time to look, which is stupid really while running on a potholed road enjoyed by middle aged boy racers in Mazda MX5s. What I did see a fair few of though, was goldfinches.

When I was a little boy, I always thought they were as rare as anything and a sighting was something to get really excited about. Nowadays they are regarded as quite common I think, but always for me there is a thrill about seeing one of what is for me our most attractive garden bird.

As Mike Skinner would put it - "They are fit and don't they know it!"

Whereas most of the finches and similar I see out on foot or wheel are sighting of flashing white tailbars erupting briefly in and out of hedges, or yellowhammers flushed out of hiding by my plodding approach, coy linnets briefly seen amongst the leaves. The Goldfinch however sits bold as very shiny brass on tree branch and telegraph wire and never flinches as I "steam" past, red face a mark of pride not embarassment. They probably laugh at other finches for being so plain.

No wonder so money of the poor damn things used to end up in cages.