I didn’t go looking for birds today. Got stuck in an office. At least there was a window. And on the other side of the glass, trees and low bushes. Our corporate campuses are well landscaped.
I was sitting at my desk absorbed in something corporate, and outside my window there was a commotion at the edge of my consciousness. It didn’t fully register. Then there was more. Bits of shadow. And noise. It broke my concentration and I looked.
A bunch of Starlings. No big deal. I went back to my computer. Then the fuss grew and I had to look again. Not just a few intrusive Starlings, but a whole lot. (By the way, that would be a pretty good alternative name for this bird: The Intrusive Starling).
I’m not interested in Starlings. I guess it’s because they’re common, urban, and because they’re an introduced Eurasian species. If the word on the street about them is correct, a hundred were released in New York’s Central Park in the 1890s for no better reason than some guy wanted the birds mentioned by Shakespeare to be here in America. Okay…..
Anyway, the Starlings that were released for Shakespearean reasons multiplied into a troublesome two hundred million or so, and they’re everywhere in the country now. To me, a satisfying sighting is a Pine Grosbeak or Snow Bunting. Starlings are just avian static, I thought.
Back to the window. It was getting more interesting. There were Starlings everywhere. Hitchcock was playing out there, not Shakespeare. The trees and bushes were black with Starlings. For some reason, the birds would rise up as a group and roll around the sky for a moment, then settle back. All, right outside my window.
I thought: Okay, I won’t write off the day as birdless. I see you guys. And I thought, maybe Starlings are worth seeing. Not just for sheer numbers. But because they’re interesting, close up. They were shining in the light, iridescent, and some had bright, whitish spots. Cool birds, after all.
I think I saw some Brewer’s Blackbirds in with them, and definitely some Grackles. I wasn’t sure about the Brewer’s Blackbirds—they’re hard to identify. But I was sure about one thing. I didn’t go to the birds today; they came to me.
Keep up the interesting commentaries. Well-written and insightful.
Sometimes it’s okay to appreciate the common. It is in my opinion that a juvenile Starling is beautiful and interesting. (I think I hear a boo from the back.)
A bird is a bird. What’s one man’s trash bird, and is another’s treasure.
Thanks for this post!