Hundreds of starlings visit early every evening just before it gets dark. Who knows whence they go? Their cacophony is deafening as they speak to each other. I loved their stark and graphic quality as they rested there, way up high in the trees and silhouetted against a gloomy, grey sky. They perched there for a few minutes and then, in unison, they they fell silent and sped off. The sound of their voices replaced by the rustle of wings.
Photos by Joel Woodard
