A Whirl of Starlings



As evening draws in scores of Starlings settle on the telegraph wires and the Hawthorn tree standing alone in the paddock. Dusk falls and as one they suddenly rise and swirl like a school of fish before dispersing to their roosts.
The green paddocks are irrigated by drawing water from Swan Lake. Their neighbours are parched and browned by the Tasmanian drought.

No comments: