murmuration

They came in the gloaming over the stone wall above the dark line of distant trees. It was the flight of a conductor's hand continuous and steady, with a slight upsweep. In the overlap the shape grew bolder, as starlings flew wing to wing, side to side, and then over and up, like a waterspout drawing from another forming cloud, in a symphony of shapes, swooping and swinging until dropping from view as a settling multitude somewhere in the trees.
In the quieting din, the sky gathered its darkness.
We stood and stared.
Later we would say, remember those birds?