A Murmuration of Humans

I’ve just come back from watching a murmuration of starlings over Cromwell Road, Whitstable. “Murmuration” is the collective noun for a flight of Starlings. Starlings don’t flock, they murmur. It’s an odd word to have chosen, since what they actually do looks more like reciting poetry than murmuring. They cut, they weave, they parry, they thrust, they wheel about in the air forming immense patterns of startling complexity. They shimmer, they switch, they swirl. They swoop, they dive. They split and then reform. It’s like a vast aerial dance of hypnotic precision in which the individual starlings come together to … Continue reading A Murmuration of Humans

Whitstable’s Carnival of Resistance

From the moment I came down Cromwell Road and saw the ingeniously altered For Sale sign outside the office (it now read “NOT For Sale”) I knew we were in for a memorable day. When I turned the corner from Cromwell Road into Wheatley Road, there were 20 or more postal workers lined up outside the gates, all of them in uniform, warming themselves on a brazier. I’d bought the brazier the previous day. I’d rung up Julie Wassmer asking her if she knew where I could get one. She didn’t quite understand. “Brazier?” she said. “What do you want … Continue reading Whitstable’s Carnival of Resistance