Looking forward to a quiet spring free of noisy nesting starlings

Hi folks,

I am really feeling on top of the world this morning but my feelings are touched with a tinge of sadness. The sadness, let me add, is easily squashed by the thought of peaceful sleeping come next spring.

Remember my bird sagas of last spring. Those pesky starlings decided my home was the ideal place to raise their family. Their scratchings and squawking started long before daylight.

Don’t get me wrong, I like birds, and that is why I have the faintest, tiniest twinge of sadness, but they should stick to their own forest environment to nest and hatch their brood.

Okay, I know starlings are not forest birds, they prefer buildings, preferably warm houses. They only need the smallest of holes to crawl under the spouting and find a comfy nesting spot.

Come next spring they are in for a surprise. My builder friend tells me there is no way they will be able to squirm their way into the safe warm spot they had last year.

I am not an uncaring person, but last spring my patience was stretched to the limit. I love the warmth so I understand a little of their bird desires when it comes to finding a warm spot to settle for a month or two.

Put it down to age. Even the faintest sound wakes me. Their scratching sounds seemed to go on and on and on.

I am more than happy, the thought of peaceful spring mornings have over-ridden any squeamishness I have about blocking their entrance.

When we were children, bird nesting was a favourite pastime. We never thought about the fact we were destroying little birds. But my dad was most emphatic about what birds eggs we could take and what nests we were not allowed near. We were only allowed to raid the nests of blackbirds and starlings, Dad declared war on these birds as they were pests.

When we found eggs, we could take, it was a delicate process then to put a needle in each end of the egg and blow out the yoke. Once the egg was clean we would thread them on wool and keep them as decorations.

Getting dirty, tearing our clothes and getting bruises, cuts or grazes were all part of the adventure of birdnesting.

We did have advantages being children in my era, no Health and Safety, yet rarely were we hurt. There was the odd broken limb but what is that in the pursuit of adventure and fun.