this was a strange september friday. i walked home from work in the late sun to find the roof of our flats on brunswick terrace covered in starlings. the sound inside was deafening. it was the lowest tide i'd ever seen. the starlings usually circle the old pier at this time, preparing to roost. something, maybe the eerily low tide, had put them off and they decided to roost on our house instead. they tapped on the skylight and angled their beady eyes on us. they hid from my camera everytime i stuck my head out of the window. we played this game for twenty minutes or more. then all at once, in a sudden gush they were gone on their way, leaving in their wake a blanket of silence.