A ode to starlings

Last night I took advantage of a beautiful evening and cancelled meeting to head out onto the path between Wildlife Lookout and South Hide to watch the starling murmuration. It was such a beautiful evening that I've been inspired to write a rare poem. 

An icy wind blows from the north

As winter’s teeth begin to bite.

Wrapped up warm against the chill

I stand, and wait, in fading light.

Spooked by some unseen predator

Lapwings flicker black and white

While golden glows the setting sun

As another day turns into night.

Reeds sway in the quickening breeze

So dance the season’s heads of seeds

While hidden deep a rail squeals

And reedlings ping from distant reeds.

Flights of ducks wheel overhead

And lazily a heron flaps

How do they all know where to go

With no SatNav or even maps?

A distant wave raises hopes

That the stars may soon murmur

But sadly, no they fail to come

Tonight I’ll miss the sight I came for.

Tonight the starlings continued southward

To roost elsewhere, where have they gone?

Two bugling whooper swans arrive

In time to bid safe journey home.

(OK, so this is a mute swan, but it was too dark to photograph the whooper's when they landed)

We'd love to hear your poems too. You can post them on our Forum or share them on the RSPB Suffolk Facebook page

PS: In the absence of starlings there's still lots to see - peregrines, marsh harriers, fieldfares, redwings and even a brief waxwing were all seen today.

PPS: for the sake of poetry I've used the term reedling, which is the old Norfolk name for bearded tits, while by rail I mean water rail.