Country diary: The starlings fall silent as they size me up

Otley, West Yorkshire: Never mind the murmurations, the way these birds instantly muzzle themselves seems almost telepathicThe unruly chorus of common starlings (Sturnus vulgaris) fills the fields to the east of Otley, sending the sounds of chattering, chirping, tweeting and trilling across a radius of at least half a mile. I immediately feel my spirits perk up at the sound of this jostling collective conversation, a ball of bright white noise in an otherwise muted February landscape.I get closer and see hundreds of dark silhouettes festooning the bare branches of a tall ash tree. Starlings are sometimes the subject of a certain petty prejudice; perhaps there is something uncomfortably insectoid in the way they teem and swarm, in their collective intelligence. Even their oily, iridescent plumage - which looks black at a distance but up-close shimmers green and purple like a puddle of petrol - has a hint of beetle armour about it. Continue reading...