I confirmed today that my attempt to keep the starlings from nesting in my dryer vent has failed. An awful high-pitched racket comes out of there, audible in the bathroom and laundry room.
I've sprayed water and banged on the walls, inside and out, to no effect (other than a momentary silence, before the chattering resumes). It's annoying, and more or less constant, but I can't hear it from the bedroom or living room, so I shouldn't call it a noise problem.
It could be a health problem, though, depending on what's really going on up in the area between the ceiling and the roof. (I guess the word is "attic." Somehow that doesn't seem right when I have no access to it.)
It seems now that I have no choice but to live with this inconvenience until the season's over, then get the nest out of there and construct some kind of baffle to keep it from happening all over again next year.
I have to live with it, but I don't have to like it. It's become my obsession to make them suffer as much as they make me suffer. If I have to listen to them screech, they have to listen to my broom handle pounding on the ceiling.
If it were hummingbirds or goldfinches or bushtits in there, I'd be a lot more tolerant. I'd wouldn't mind so much if it were anything other than starlings, the big obnoxious bullies of the neighborhood. Prejudice is a terrible thing.