Bastardized blithely into proverb (“Live by the sword, die by the sword”), the Gospel of Matthew speaks with preternatural relevance to starlings, the beautiful scourge of birds highlighted in a recent essay of mine.

I confess to anthropomorphizing birds too frequently, imputing human characteristics and making judgments as to their elegance as well as their moral failings.

Observed closely, at least in the context of the Western aesthetic, starlings are beautiful creatures, not only for their subtle iridescent hues and physical form, but for their aerobatic formations known as murmurations. They are, however, notoriously predatory, feeding on other birds’ eggs and offspring and displacing resident birds in their domination of available food.

Today I filled our feeder and watched as starlings bullied sparrows and songbirds, consuming the easy seed, scattering only shells and husks for the meek below. Inexplicably, in an instant, the mix of birds exploded from the ground, from the feeder, the surrounding trees and bushes, but for one preoccupied starling, falling prey in a brief moment, impaled on talons, staring into the dark, murderous maw of a Cooper’s hawk.

This photograph marked not more than three minutes from the time of death. In profound, horrific moments, the starling’s breast plucked clean, her body warm and eviscerated, was commemorated only by entrails cast upon the snow. The sublime well may lie at the intersection of awe inspiring beauty and nature’s savage terror.

Draw as you will a moral.

Year: 2022
Location: Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Collector’s Edition of 10
Dimensions: 15.5" x 23"