Maybe I shouldn't admit this to the birding community, but I kind of like Starlings. Or at least watching them. Yes, I know they are aggressive jerks , and would I rather have the Bluebird of happiness in my birdhouse? Yes I would. However that's not the way things have played out. Starlings - just another episode of "dance with them what brung ya". That would be us.

Driving across North Everett about a month ago, early in the morning, I was chagrined to note that all the birds I saw, and there were a lot of them, were "Invasive Species" All I saw in my 10 minute truck ride were flocks of Starlings, House Sparrows, and Rock Pigeons. The only other creature's I noted, were large numbers of that other "Invasive", me and my fellows, driving around - a few walkers too. Since my people invaded North America from England only in the 1920's, I guess all the aforementioned birds have deeper roots on the continent than I do.

One of my favorite rites of September is the phenomenon of what I call "The Singing Tree", or alternatively "Radio Starling". That's when an entire tree is full of a large number of Starlings calling loudly, and often invisibly, giving me the impression that the tree itself is the source of all that sound. To me it sounds like somebody tuning a big wierd short-wave radio, broadcasting out to -who knows what. My other name for the phenomenon is "The Tower of Babel" as, along with the sort of goofy Starling calls, are all the imitations they do: maybe an Eagle, Canada Goose, treefrog, "wolf whistle", or whatever- all sorts of languages all mixed together.

Yesterday, on what was maybe one of the last gasp's of Summer, I was driving down a farm road south of Snohomish on a tree shopping trip. The power lines along the road were covered with Starlings, several hundred of them. It was warm and I had the window rolled down. I had NPR on the radio and there was a segment on the plight of the Red Knot in it's Delaware Bay stopover habitat. Just as I was driving by the Starlings, they played a recording of the Knot. I had the volume cranked up to hear over the road noise and the recording was a close up one. The staccato call of the Knot reminded me of a small hawk of some sort, and apparently it had the same imprint on the Starlings - they all instantly dispersed.

Also fun to watch are Starlings snooping out on the grass in small groups, like mini animal herds on the Serengeti, and Starlings walking around on roofs eating bugs, and flycatching in the air. Starlings really are quite beautiful when one really looks at them. Starlings of course are fascinating to watch swirling in their spectacular winter flocks. Thousands roost on the old steel bridges at the North end of Everett.

Starlings - like them or no, they are interesting.


Jeff Gibson
Everett Wa