The robin pulled a worm from the ground. Immediately a starling flew up and challenged him - chasing the robin away and swallowing the worm that was left behind. The robin continued its search for worms in the moist ground. Again and again the starling challenged the robin at just the moment it pulled a worm from the soil. The starling was not successful at every charge, but enough so that he was continued the escapade until the robin flew off to find a starling-free lawn.
The robin had the skills to find and pull the worms, but the starling and the aggressiveness and cunning to steal them away.
European starlings have spread over North America from a couple of hundred birds introduced into New York City by a lover of Shakespeare who wanted to see all of Shakespeare's birds in the new country. They are so successful because of the skills I witnessed - their aggressiveness, and their taking of the habitats of native birds. Starlings have even been known to chase much larger Flickers out of their nesting cavities.
Starlings tend to flock together when feeding. When traveling the flock looks like it rolls; the birds at the back of the flock go over and replace the birds at the front. If a hawk appears the flock tightens for protection.
These medium size black or brownish birds molt their feathers feathers in the fall. The new feather tips are whitish, giving the bird a speckled appearance. Over the winter sunlight and weather dulls the speckled look, and the bird becomes uniform dark brown or black.
Starling beaks are yellow during the spring breeding season. By fall the beak becomes brown, and it remains brown through winter. Their beaks are short, and are designed to open with force, different from other birds who have stronger muscles to close down their beaks. The strong opening beak is an adaptation for probing in the soil for insects and worms, pushing rocks and soil out of the way.
I walk beneath a grove of large cottonwoods every morning. There are always a few starlings at the tops of the cottonwoods. Their shrill calls and whistling are part of the morning sounds. I have grown accustomed to them, and they are comforting, along with the calls of the redwing blackbirds, the honking of the geese, the wind blowing through the grass and the tree branches, the smell of the damp soil, and the rising sun.
I once was witness to a young boy shooting a female starling. I have never forgotten what happened next. A larger male starling, obviously her mate, landed next to the dead female and sounded a distress call, flapping its wings in challenge. It put itself at risk with its courage. The boy didn't shoot the bird, but slowly approached. The male starling stood his ground, trying to protect its mate. Finally, when the boy was just a few feet away, the grieving bird flew off.
Here was a bird that is considered a common pest, that is poisoned by the thousands, clearly showing signs of loyalty and courage.
