At around ten to four this afternoon the warden, a young man with a Jesus beard and flowing locks, said "They're late tonight". We waited a few more minutes as the sun set and it got colder. I murmured to Clare "We've had more starlings around your feeder in the back garden."
Shortly after four what looked like black smoke trails on the horizon resolved into the first incoming flocks. They are truly a super-organism of the skies, some impossibly-agile fish or eel. After performing at speed over the tree-tops they dived into the rushes where they'll overnight. Wave after wave followed.
As we packed up to go the warden said "That was one of the best ever. I'd say nine out of ten."