It’s A Starling, Me Darling

Now that Spring is here, we are starting to see some of the medium-sized birds return to the garden. Among these are the starlings, uncouth yobs that have a tendency to push in and take over. Their one saving grace is their striking appearance.

Whenever I see these birds, I always think of the poem by Pam Ayres, I’m A Starling, Me Darling. It sums up the starling perfectly. I love her poems and songs!

We’re starlings, the misses, meself and the boys,
We don’t go round hoppin’, we walks.
We don’t go in for this singing all day,
And twittering about, we just squawks.


We don’t go in for these fashionable clothes,
Like old Missel Thrush, and his spots,
Me breast isn’t red, there’s no crest on me head,
We’ve got sort of, hardwearing…dots.


We starlings, the misses, meself and the boys,
We’ll eat anything that’s about,
Well anything but, that old half coconut,
I can’t hold it still. I falls out.


What we’d rather do, is wait here for you,
To put out some bread for the tits,
And then when we’re certain, you’re there by the curtain,
We flocks down and tears it to bits.


But we starlings, the misses, meself and the boys,
We reckon that we’re being got at,
You think for two minutes, them finches and linnets,
You never sees THEM being shot at.


So the next time you comes out to sprinkle the crumbs out,
And there’s starlings there, making a noise,
Don’t you be so quick to heave half a brick,
It’s the misses, meself and the boys!

By Pam Ayres.

They usually travel in flocks and can be quite a problem at the bird feeders once they become established. A single pair can raise 2-3 broods per year with each brood producing 5-8 young, so it’s easy to see how the numbers can become overwhelming.

So far, they have not become a nuisance here, and as long as they continue to play nice with the other birds, I won’t have a reason to discourage them although, as with all birds, I maintain a healthy distance. Those beaks look like they could give you a nasty dig.