I am apparently a conditional birder as I am been unappreciative of the European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris - how appropriate a scientific name). When I lived in Oklahoma the "vulgari" would empty out nest houses of other birds' active nests and leave white stains all over the outside of nest boxes or cavities they had stolen from some seemingly more desirable bird. (Generally, at least for me, the desirable ones were those I had to go looking for rather than those, such as Starlings, that so abundantly volunteered to dance before me everyday at my feeders.) Nor are their nesting habits within my cleanliness range - and I am a single guy. (Imagine if I picked up their habits in my home - yuk!) Not only do they aggressively chase away any other bird at my feeders, they even gang up to bully their way. (Pssst - I do appreciate their Minnesota winter plumage, but let's keep that between us.) This overall behavior has left me a bit numb and even resentful when it comes to watching or appreciating the species. By the way, credit is given one Eugene Scheifflin, an amateur ornithologist and Shakespeare fan for introducing this delight to us. He wanted to bring all the birds listed in Shakespeare's plays to North America, so he reportedly transported 80-100 European Starlings to Central Park in New York City in 1890 and released them. Today there are an estimated 200 million starlings in America and it seems most at least visit the feeder in my front yard. I offer this feeder in sacrifice to keep the feeders outside my office window for the most part Starling (and Grackle) scarce.
Why am I telling you something you already may know? I got an insight to how the saying "What goes around, comes around" might be taught through observations of Starlings. I was watching my front yard feeder and noticed purposeful and intense movement in the relatively high grass in my yard. It was an adult Starling quickly clambering through the grass apparently desperate searching for food. It was the apparent desperation that caught my eye. In its almost frenzied movement it would disappear and reappear in the grass. It was by chance, after a few moments of watching, that I noticed the bird was being pursued by another bird on the ground walking a few inches behind it and keeping low. It was an almost fully grown offspring of the parent Starling - plain with grayish-brown head blending to black wings without significant spotting and a pointy bill with yellow portions - obviously not a young cowbird. This gaping child was aggressively pursuing its parent and, to my surprise, would actually peck and snap at the parents feathers or body in an apparent and almost constant attempt to get its attention. Meanwhile the adult was now in a frenzied search for food as fast as I have ever seen a bird search. Every 3-4 seconds the youngster would bolt forward and stab at the adult - I couldn't be sure if it was pecking the adult's body or just trying to grab its feathers. As the adult picked up its intensity to search for food, the youngster picked up its intensity to get its attention. Every 15-20 seconds the adult would find some form of food and turn and place it in the youngster's gaping mouth, only to be snapped at again the second the morsel had reached the youngster's gullet. I watched this behavior with fascination for almost 15 minutes. My guess is that the parent was going to sleep well that night out of pure exhaustion - if the youngster would leave it alone long enough. I don't think I have ever really watched a Starling for that long or seen such an aggressive and physical pursuit and interplay with a hungry fledgling. At first I actually felt a little sorry for the adult and a little hostility for the offspring. Then I realized that for all my judgments of Starlings. . . I felt this unexpected appreciation for the birds. I will ponder the lessons that nature gives me. As for "What goes around, comes around" - Ow! - my brain hurts. Thomas Maiello Spring Lake Park
