Sometimes in the mornings, I believe that we are in the midst of a hurricane. Then I look out and the starlings are rushing to wherever it is they rush to. I had a clue about where that is yesterday.
Bearing in mind we live in the middle of nowhere, visitors are infrequent, passers-by less frequent than a blue moon, so Monday teatime was great fun. I had supper on the go, and I usually do a spruce up of the house while food is in the oven – washing the floor vital at this time of year, as Biddy has already started to enjoy a daily ‘dip’. She waits patiently and with longing for her beloved master, so when she began to whimper and wag, I was more than surprised to see an unknown car pull up to the gate. The usual reason for strangers to find their way to us is that they are lost. No……. they had, over a few days, been tracking ‘our’ starlings from Welshpool, which is 17 miles away! Actually probably less as the passerine flies. I invited them to park in the yard, and they were then able to walk to a nearby lake, where the starlings bed down every night. They reported back that they believe the murmuration to be of 500,000. They also saw a Peregrine, and a Sparrowhawk in hot pursuit. I find the starlings fascinating, mainly because they live to a great age and so I think of the many, many years that the same birds have been visiting us.
As they were leaving the neighbours who had called while I was ill, called again, obviously not put off by the squallor. I was so pleased to have done my quick tidy – the point of telling you: I am not wont to discuss my housekeeping often! They had come to ask me to stitch up a donkey, for a school talk on the Aesop’s fable The Man The Boy and The Donkey. I have had some strange sewing tasks, but this ranks high.
There was much shuffling of cars when a bemused WFV also arrived!