It was a gamble dragging Jamie the director and a camera crew out to Somerset as there was no guarantee we would see a murmuration, and on top of that, there was a chance that even if we did, it might not be as amazing as it looked on the telly. This is the problem with TV coverage. It often shows the best version of something, and if you go and see the thing yourself it never lives up to it. Jamie the director said he wasn’t convinced that it was art, which I thought was a joke when you think we started this trip looking at a bloody shovel in the Museum of Modern Art!
We set off from London at around 7 a.m. It was a damp, grey day with rain forecast. It took about five hours to get there due to the traffic. All the way, I was worrying as I really wanted it to be good and yet the whole thing depended on the starlings showing up and putting on a good show.
We got there and got booted up as it was wet and muddy. It felt like a million miles away from where I started my trip in New York. A nice quiet bit of countryside with clear air. I had no idea if the drizzle would mean the starlings would be a no-show. Surely a drop of rain wouldn’t stop them; it’s not Wimbledon. We made our way closer to the water – this is the place they tend to fly around as there are fewer predators hanging around. There wasn’t a starling in the sky. Just one swan messing about in the water. We waited. And waited some more. It was like going to a Pete Doherty gig.
There was no guarantee it was going to happen. But that’s nature for you. Most things in the world these days are on demand, but nature isn’t one of them. I watch Springwatch live, and they always promise footage of all sorts of rare animals but never deliver, and end up filling the programme with live coverage of a box of baby owls.
I kept looking up thinking I could see a group of starlings in the distance, but it was just small clouds. The light was starting to go and so was my hope of seeing them. Due to us having another potential five-hour drive back to London, I could see Jamie the director was close to knocking it on the head and suggesting we should head back, when I saw a small dark patch in the sky. A bunch of starlings flew over, looking like a faint fingerprint. If I had to put a number on it I’d have said 200 starlings. We all legged it like kids who have just heard the chimes from an ice-cream van. It was hard to keep up, as there were trees all around so it wasn’t easy to track them. We stopped and looked up, and even more were coming in from different directions. This was it. It was happening. It was unbelievable. In minutes, what looked like around 20,000 starlings, maybe more, were throwing all sorts of shapes, the sort you get in a lava lamp, but at high speed. Breaking off into three groups and heading off in different directions before turning and joining back together. Similar to a tornado hurtling through the countryside with the noise to match. I wasn’t prepared for that. It reminded me of the first time I heard the crowd at Man United react to a goal from outside the ground when I was a kid. A noise that can only be produced by something in large numbers. A loud swooshing sound, mixed with the tweeting, as the starlings swooped into each other, but never collided.
The amount seemed to be growing all the time. How is this happening? Who’s in charge and leading this madness? The best show on earth and yet we were the only ones witnessing it. For free. It was even better than when I’ve seen it on YouTube.
Blake the art critic said he would stand and look at a painting for an hour, which I couldn’t understand, but I could easily watch this for longer. The only disappointing part was that I couldn’t, as this show was over within twenty-five minutes, with no encore. One minute they were darting about the sky and next it was like someone had turned on a big vacuum that sucked them into the ground where they all lay to rest for the night. I’ve visited the Seven Wonders of the World and this shits all over them (actually, they probably would). I’d say it’s definitely one of the things you have to see before you die. And it probably would be, if you were a worm.
Perfectionist
Caring
Stubborn
Funny
Hard-working
Loyal
THIS IS HOW Suzanne described me yesterday when I asked her to list my characteristics. I was pretty pleased with that review. I come across as quite a catch, and would happily have that stamped on my gravestone. I doubt I would have come up with a list as good as that on my own as I struggle bigging myself up. I’ve never got a job through an interview because of this, and have always relied on someone putting a word in, or I’ve worked for free for a few days to show them what I can offer. I’m like a toilet brush – not the most exciting thing to have in the home, but you’d be lost without it.
The thing is, I’m human and have more than these six aspects to my character.
I asked Suzanne to do a new list today, and I got this:
Rude
Disregard other people’s feelings
Uncompromising
Shouty
You see, today started with a call to a furniture shop where I wanted to order two items. The delivery charge was £40 but the fella on the end of the phone wanted to charge me £80 as there were two items. I didn’t see why he was charging me twice. He was coming to our address with the first item anyway, and the website suggested buying the items together, so why am I being charged twice?!
‘That’s the way it is,’ he said.
‘Okay, I’ll order the two items and pay the delivery charge twice, but I want each item delivered on separate days, seeing as I’m paying twice.’
‘Now you’re just being silly,’ he said.
‘You’re being a cheeky bastard!’ I said.
He hung up. This is what got me the ‘rude’ and ‘uncompromising’ from Suzanne.
Later on, we went out for a walk before deciding to go for something to eat. The first place I suggested was shut, so that annoyed me, and then the second place was full, so by the time we got to the third place I was starving. Suzanne was on the phone trying her luck with the furniture company, seeing as I didn’t get anywhere, so I picked a table that I thought was fine. Once she was off the phone she started moaning that the table was in the shade and it was too cold (even though I said she should have brought a coat with her) so wanted to move to a sunny table. I got arsey and said it’s like going out with bleeding Goldilocks. So now I was the ‘shouty’ one with ‘disregard for her feelings’.
I’m always being told off for shouting. People think I’m joking if I say I’m not happy with something, and I find it’s only when I shout that I’m taken seriously.
Suzanne said I even shout when I write as I do everything in capitals. She said her Valentine card messages look like ransom notes. But that’s just because I’ve never got into doing joined-up writing. I think it’s a selfish way to write. It might be faster for you to do it but you’re taking up more time of the person who has to try and read it.
The other problem I have with it is it uses up more ink as the pen never leaves the paper.
Anyway, once I’d had a bellyful of food and ordered pudding