On the way back we see a cloud of tiny birds, there must be thousands of them all flying together like a swarm of bees. They don't seem to be going anywhere, the cloud stays mainly in the same place, just changing shape over and over.

They could be starlings since they flock in winter, a murmeration of starlings. Or swallows. A flight of swallows.

Anyway, it's beautiful to watch. They look like seaweed does when you view it underwater; each tendril separate but creating a feeling of gentle conformity as together they follow the movement of the sea.

I watch the cloud as it slowly twists and turns, morphing from one shape to another; a circle, a V an S, a wave, a curious, curvy flower. Each bird must be working furiously to keep its correct place within the cloud: up, then left, then down, then left, then right, then left again, and over and over, but from down here it looks so perfect, so simple and easy.

Like a beautiful balletic sculpture in the sky spelling out symbols especially for me to see.