European Starling

“Nay, / I’ll have a starling shall be taught to speak / Nothing but “Mortimer,” and give it him / To keep his anger still in motion” says Hotspur in Shakespeare’s Henry IV (1.3.8), planning to train a starling to speak the name of a man held prisoner, then give the starling to the king who refuses to pay the ransom. It is because of this line that we are able to see starlings in North America; 100 starlings were imported from Europe and released in New York in the 1890s by a group of people meaning to introduce every bird to North America that Shakespeare had ever mentioned. Now the starling population is estimated to be 60 million in North America and they range from coast to coast and from the Canadian territories to northern Mexico. Many habitats attract starlings; they whistle down on students from the oak trees on Main Mall at UBC, gather in the thousands in barns of rural areas, and sit on in treetops near mashes and fields. I saw this one off of 72nd street near Boundary Bay on January 10.

Starlings are fascinating birds. They form massive flocks called murmurations that undulate through the sky, as shown in many videos. Their feathers are iridescent and white-tipped, making their plumage look like a night sky full of stars. But as their feathers wear, they’ll lose their white tips, and by spring the birds will be all-dark. Starlings are indeed mimics and will repeat the calls of other birds (ours often sound like eagles and gulls, but I have never actually heard a starling say “Mortimer”).

Starlings are considered invasive in North America, as they are believed to compete with other native species for nest cavities. However, the extent of their invasive-ness is up for debate: some researchers have found that only sapsuckers seem to be losing out due to starling invasion.