Growing up as a child Starlings were seen as pests – making messy nests beneath the eves and kicking up a racket. Then later in life I would drive home into the city and see over the spires the swooping urban murmuration. Then that disappeared – municipal buildings swathed in anti-roosting netting. Later still daughter exclaims about the exotic multi-coloured bird she has seen in the garden. Then later still we join the spectator throngs visiting the pre-roost displays out beyond Stony Middleton.
Now, here, our relationship with Starlings seems more balanced. Neither pest nor exotic, they weave their part in the daily pattern of life,
Pethan eraill yn y tyddyn heddiw:
and daffodil of the day