Ilkley Baptist

The starlings were in evidence again today, flocks of them swirling, separating and reforming in the skies above the centre of town, then landing on chimney pots and arials to squeak and twitter. At this time of year their plumage is very bright, glossy brown rather than grey, and the little stars (that's where their name comes from) are strongly marked.

Yesterday I watched a pair of red kites flying over a field near the roundabout for Burley in Wharfedale. Majestic birds, but a bit confused looking, not sure where to go next, dithering, changing direction, coming low, climbing again. They look a bit brainless, to be honest. Lovely to see them around Ilkley, though.

There are starlings in town in large numbers, in the trees down Brook Street, and on the rooftops along Church Road, whistling and squeaking away. They are the monkeys of the birds world, noisy, clever and impertinent.

Twenty years ago, if you put the carcass of a roast chicken in the garden on a winter's day, fifty starlings would descend and pick it clean within minutes. Now they are much rarer. We did see the immense roost on the Somerset levels earlier in the year, though. Vast numbers making a sound like a giant fan as they turned in the air before dropping into the reeds.

Perhaps numbers are up this year. It would be good to see more of them.