This evening, we headed to the local park at dusk to watch the murmurations of starlings as they came into roost in the trees. It started slowly, a few groups swirling overhead. But before too long, great swathes of birds had joined them and they were swooping above us in ribbon-like shapes. It was amazing to watch. Magically, hypnotically beautiful. The sound was surprising: almost white-noise as they flew over us. After thirty minutes or so, the birds began to congregate on trees, gathering in darker, denser groups, before finally coming to rest in their bedtime perches.
And so we returned home, in a now bird-mess-studded car, to defrost our frozen fingers around a cup of tea, and to head towards our own bedtime perches.