Jackdaws

When I lived in Mid-Wales the end of each day would be tolled by the passing flock of jackdaws. Calling as they went towards their roost site, they foretold the onset of night. Here, on the edge of the North Downs, I rarely see or hear a daw. But on a recent day of high winds, the stubble field behind the house, where there was shelter from the cold gusts, a flock of sevral hundred birds appeared as if from nowhere. Rising, swirling and constantly calling, they were quite a spectacle. Whether or not they dispersed or moved on as a flock, I cannot tell, but I am left once again, with just the occasional distinctive call of the daw.