I make no apologies to anybody that might have opened this page expecting to see shots of a leopard standing on one leg or a polar bear walking down Oxford street. This page concerns itself with the everyday extra-ordinary beauty of the common or garden starling.

I took the shot on the right this morning and was bowled over by the range of brilliant, iridescent colours that came up on the computer screen when I opened my raw file. Of course I knew about their colours; indeed I have long been a fan of these birds, that bring so much life and vitality to the sometimes sedate procession of cheeky blue tits and secretive dunnocks, but I couldn’t help remembering how many people I have heard cursing these birds for their behaviour.

Close up, we can see that every metallic feather is tipped with  white as though somebody has gone to the trouble of dipping each one in white paint.

Their tendency to dominate the feeding station, forcing the more timid to wait their turn and then to manage on the few scraps that they leave behind, is just one aspect of their behaviour that really winds people up. But to my mind, moaning because you have probably the most beautiful British garden bird of all hogging your feeders seems a bit too much like complaining because you have a lot more money than you need.

If you have starlings in your garden, it is never still. They are garrulous, aggressive, domineering and greedy and I love them.

In recent years, their population levels have dipped, although in my village the last year seemed to be a better one to me. It is a cliche I know, but you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til its gone and a few more people are starting to wake up to the fact that the bird they disliked for so long is in fact a valuable addition to the view from the window.

Photographing starlings is the equivalent of taking pictures of punks in a Sunday school queue. They may not be quite the thing, but they are great subjects for the photographer.

At the moment, thanks to the television , there is a great deal of interest in their behaviour when great flocks of them go to roost. Such displays are undoubtedly impressive, but they have been doing that forever without anybody making a song and dance about it. If ever you get the chance to see it, go - you will not be disappointed, but don’t overlook the individuals in that vast throng. They are not merely black spots in the sky, every one of them is as beautiful as the birds in these pictures.   

Young starlings are quite drab in colour, but as they reach their ‘teenage’ years, the dull brown feathers give way to these stunning purples and greens, but for a while just like any teenager, they retain some of their childhood colours and for a while they appear in a never-ending range of partial plumage variations. Kind of adolescent, just   growing-up outfits - their first suit if you like.

If these birds were rare, we would drive miles to see one, and everybody would rave about how beautiful they are. For me they are probably the most interesting subjects that I could ever wish for and they come to my garden every day. Long may it remain so.

From the Field

December 2009 - extra ordinary