Talking about my murmeration

A lone Fieldfare, or Twurzel, as I like to call them, sat a top the hedgerow.  A silver male Hen Harrier Harrier drifted low over the phragmites beyond.  A workmate, Lorraine, had said she wanted to see a starling flock on mass and the current murmuration at Wicken provided a good opportunity to see a this spectacle.  

It was freezing on the lodeside but a Barn Owl accompanied much of our walk.  We didn't have to wait long for Starlings to appear and the amalgamated quickly, when two large groups of thousands joined they created the swirling cloud we had hoped to see. The swarm of birds twisted and turned as one, rolling within and around itself in rhythms of universal harmonics, an energetic liquid mass floating within zero gravity.