Part of the crowd

Still sore from the new physio, but also surprised to see yesterday was nearly 5000 steps. So a gentler couple of days needed I think.

A lovely coffee and catchup with a friend today, the benefits of a life in Academia - retired at 60 on a final salary scheme, not many will say that in the years ahead. He looked wonderfully happy and was already uttering the retired person mantra of "don't know how I fitted work in..."

This afternoon I went to a talk by the Cumbria Police Wildlife Officer (staying on a theme - I was the youngest there by 20 years). The content was fascinating, even if the subject was a little too wide, but sadly not everyone is cut out for public speaking and a lot of impact was lost. I'd hoped there might be some blipable displays, but alas no.

Heading home in the drizzle I found myself the only car on the Common as little flocks streaked overhead. Despite the damp I carefully wandered out towards the roost (the drystone wall making an excellent handrail, the barbed wire not so much). Within moments I found myself quite literally in the murmuration, something I've tried to show in the collage. At times the birds were inches from the ground and me, at others they were simply one dense tumbling crowd. I took a hundred plus pictures, most too blurry to see, but I settled on this one for three reasons:
These trees are not the roost. The birds seem to decide at the last minute. Some landed here - but when the masses went elsewhere they took off and went with them. More proof this is a social thing.
The density is captured so well. At times they expand so that they hardly show against a grey sky - then they coalesce into one behemoth.
If you look to the left you can see another (tiny) flock arriving. This is a large part of the magic, seeing the murmuration grow, seeing its draw. It makes me think of the Borg.