the attack of the starlings

was one of the most dramatic events on the home front last week. We have for years had a nesting box for blue tits on the garage top, and some members have returned every year to take possession of it. I don't know, however, whether they are of the same family, those of them that might have survived the attacks from cat and crow. But the thing is that the hole is so small that few other birds may enter.

The blue tit is very early, arriving in March well before some of the other migrants. So this year the small family was safely installed when the next wave of air-borne travellers landed, among them the starlings. The latter seems to have a certain preference for man made bird houses, and four of the newcomers engaged in a regular air attach on the tit habitation. They tried to enter the hole with the intention of evicting those who already lived there, and they besieged the box for a couple of hours preventing anybody from whether coming out or going in.

I experienced an upsettinge and aggressive feeling of righteousness, and I ran out in my slippers to chase away the attackers, siding instinctively with the weaker part. I even dug out an old air rifle, loaded, and fired a shot at the garage in my fuming anger. Luckily I hit neither window glas, tit, cat nor starling, but the commotion led to the starling abandoning the field. One of the blue tits was witnessing the whole affair from a nearby tree, and to me it seemed as if it enjoyed the thing. At least it never showed any fear whatever I was doing to frighten the invaders.

So now the little family is at peace again, and since it is nesting so early in the spring, there are surely fledlings there putting on weight and building strength to enter the more dangerous world outside. Good luck to them.