Driving home from a visit to my grandparents, my brothers, mum, dad and I were all in the car, unaware that anything was going to happen. Suddenly, we saw that quite a few starlings were flying above our heads. Our windows were down, and rustling noises were coming from the sky. More and more and more flew and flew and flew in odd patterns.
We stopped outside a local butcher’s; the starlings seemed to be circling us. Warily, my brother stepped out of the car. He looked up to watch the hypnotising swirl of starlings spread across the sky. To his surprise and dismay, a present fell on his shoulder. Dangerous and cheeky, they had dropped a bomb.
Now the war had really begun. Then another one dropped, this time on my dad’s hat. We were under attack. There were hundreds of them – we were outnumbered. Laughing and confused, we jumped back in the car. We had surrendered. We watched as they followed us home, dancing through the wind.
I now know that this is called a murmuration. It is called that because of the sound it makes, like a murmur from a crowd. Groups can reach vast numbers and sometimes even hundreds of thousands! These incredible displays are more likely to be seen in autumn and winter. The starlings apparently do their murmurations to fly to their communal resting places, and to keep safe from predators. It worked!
Tilly, 12
Read today’s other YCD piece, by Polly, 9: ‘What’s that piercing cry in the winter woods?’