It appears a male starling is making advances to the female, who in turn is playing hard to get. At first, I hear sweet tunes, which quickly have turned into unpleasant assertions. Then arrives male #2 and the competitors have at it, chasing each other through the branches while the female ignores them, rearranging her coiffure and powdering her beak.
One of the males is run off (how can you tell them apart?), and the young couple is left to negotiate their terms of endearment. Not that I care; good grief, it’s not like we need more starlings in the world. Continue reading “A bird in the hand, (unless it’s a starling…)”