Last week, as I was working along the West bank path, I was stopped by a lady who asked me what “that flock of smaller birds” was. I suggested that they were probably starlings. “Oh”, she said and started to walk away looking for something else to watch. “Have you seen the starlings on the fresh marsh in the evenings?” I asked. But, apparently, food she had put out for her garden birds had been eaten by starlings, and so starlings weren’t going to appear on her top 10 favourite birds list any time soon.
This, I thought, was a shame, as during my time at Titchwell I’ve spent most evenings looking out over the freshwater marsh with a growing sense of wanting to belong to the fantastically character-full gathering of starlings washing themselves and sharing their day time adventures. How can I learn to speak starling? I’d love to know what they’re talking about. Are they discussing the day’s weather, or where have all these damned golden plover come from, or maybe just recent inter-relationship gossip and how is it that Sebastian (Starling) always seems to get to sit on the one post sticking up from the mud..?
A couple of nights ago, as I ambled away from this starling-filled scene I pointed out a little stint to a couple on holiday from Yorkshire. Whilst this was clearly an exciting sighting for them, we got round to discussing the starlings. They described to me the moment they’d watched one of the flocks taking a bath earlier, splashing up enough water that the birds behind them had been treated to a free shower.
At other times I’ve discussed with other visitors the incredible noise generated by 1500 chatting starlings and 3000 beating starling wings. During my first couple of evenings down Parrinder hide, trying to learn my waders, I was confused by the way that I could hear something roaring down the road and that co-incidentally the starling chatter would quieten at the same time. Turning my attention to the starlings, I realised the sound wasn't coming from the road, but was being generated each time they took off to re-adjust their position on the marsh.
It’s great that there are frequently rare birds on the reserve, but in a world where nature is facing an increasingly difficult time I’m still heartened to see large gatherings of any species. Not just starlings, but the 1000 plus golden plover we’ve recently been getting (I can hear them peeping from almost everywhere on the reserve), and before that the 1400 or so bar-tailed godwits. These flocks seem to have a mind of their own and are a great example of nature in action.