A starling murmuration.
Thousands of sternus vulgaris collecting in groups, sometimes over the most unlikely of locations, then joining together as one for a spectacular aerial display of turning, twisting and dancing. Works of art in the sky, the birds make amazing shapes as they ball and fold, sometimes for a few moments, sometimes for up to an hour.
Suddenly, the starlings descend in black funnels, into a seemingly TARDIS-like space, to roost in reeds or trees. The sky may have emptied, but the air is still full of chattering as families squabble, swap places and find their spot for the night.
To witness this performance, often silhouetted against a backdrop of a sunset or the moon, is an ethereal and humbling experience.
We've come a long way from the likes of Aristotle and Morton, with their beliefs that birds hibernate in the bottom of lakes or migrate to the moon, but we still don't really know for sure why starlings murmur.
The ancient Romans thought they were messages from the Gods. An oracle would be sent to stand on the top of Avantine Hill, to watch and interpret how the Gods were feeling that day. It's incredible to think that vital political decisions in Rome might have been made this way! The city still sees spectacular murmurations of up to 10 million birds each winter, although I think the residents are more worried about seven tonnes of bird splat than the moods of the Gods these days...
Recent scientific research proposes more down-to-earth theories, such as the birds protecting themselves from predators, keeping warm, socialising and organising hierarchies for the roost. Whatever the reason is, these magical, mesmerising murmurations will certainly keep me smiling until Spring.
And maybe booking a trip to Rome next year...
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| Sillhouette in Tewkesbury - Lizzy |
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| Murmuration in Rome - Soren Solkaer |
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| Poo in Rome - Chris Helgren |
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