Startling starlings

The first we knew about it was a strange noise passing by outside, sometimes loud, sometimes faint. It was definitely coming from a vehicle of some sort and felt like one of those odd movies where a car keeps appearing or crossing at a different junction just out of sight or just behind you - which in the grid of streets that make up the bastide town is very plausible. It sounded like a very bad impersonation of Donald Duck being throttled.

The next morning, Chris was awoken before seven by the sound of explosions at random intervals. He thought to himself, and I quote, 'What the fuck are those mad French bastards up to now?' Quite.

I told you about the extremely spectacular but slightly scary flights of thousands of starlings at dusk - well, there is apparently a more unpleasant side to the evening show of aeronautical prowess. Shit. Lots and lots of bird shit. Also noise. Walk anywhere near the squares where they congregate in the trees and the noise of chattering and cheeping birds is deafening - must be a nightmare to live right next to it.

There is no mistaking that there is a touch of the Alfred Hitchcock about the whole thing and 'Le Mairie' has decided to do something about it. A 'fauconnier' has been hired.

Once upon a time, a falconer would have turned up with a falcon to scare the shit out of a mass of starlings - not that the town needs any more shit to come out of them. These days he turns up with a new Renault Clio, a loudspeaker and a recording of a falcon played on a CD. He drives around the town at dawn and dusk, from one nesting place to another, playing his strange falcon / strangled duck tune and every now and again he sets off a big blast type banger, which is supposed to scare the starlings, but actually gets everybody in town wide awake from whatever dream or nightmare they were in at 6.30am or makes them spill their pre-dinner pastis at 6.00pm. Neither does much for the nerves - god help the war veterans.

There is a time and place for modern technology and I suppose we should embrace the new world, but I bet everyone I know would rather see a team of falcons let loose above the skies of Carcassonne in an orgy of culling after which they would turn up on the menus of the towns restaurants, which is probably what used to happen several centuries ago and was, no doubt, regarded as a great delicacy. Our sensibilities are far too refined these days to consider killing the birds, never mind eating them, and there is probably some directive that says you can't turn up with a real live falcon because it would be cruel to let it loose and behave in a totally natural way.

Instead some fat French bureaucrat drives around in his, government provided, car all day, playing his stupid tune and letting off fireworks every now and again. It's probably the closest France has got to celebrating Guy Fawkes night - one event in British history that they remain totally in ignorance of - as opposed to all the events that they either deny (defeats) or twist into glorious resistance (pleas for help).

And what will this new humane method of startling the starlings achieve - it will make them go somewhere else where they can't afford to pay for the fireworks and yet another member of the civil service - and then they too will have a shit problem and an evening display of mass flying power. Well, maybe.

So far, two days into the operation, the starling numbers look undiminished and the aerial displays continue. I bet the 'fauconnier' has negotiated a daily rate with no guarantees of success. No need to set a 6.30 morning alarm for a while then.