Gliding effortlessly through the air like a leaf falling from a tree in autumn. Twisting and turning with tiny movements of its wings, twitching feathers and muscles in a spasm of change.
The murmuration moved as one huge cloud, connected together by invisible threads. Diving down, heading for the ground like an airplane out of control, about to crash land. Then in an instant changing their shape into a long stripe of moving darkness in the sky, like an artist’s strokes on a canvas.
Travelling across the sunset sky, over pink and grey, red and black, then up into the clear blue, spreading the dark mist of moving individual birds acting as one.
The sheer beauty of their swooping and whirling with one apparent mind, creates a sense of awe, never known before. Standing, staring unable to look away, gripped as if in terror, tears spring to my eyes, suddenly streaming down my face like a river.
The power and mystery of this phenomenon is so breath taking, its as if the air around me had disappeared into a vacuum.
As quickly as it began, the birds disperse, separating themselves as if they are opposite magnets. The flock has disappeared and only a few stragglers remain, flapping their way to their roosts, like drunks leaving the pub at night.
222 words – Sandy Bryson
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