"Stormy at sea." Mum says.
A woodpigeon flaps on his way and a pair of magpies fly low and direct across the bare field behind him. Suddenly the sky is filled with the crow family again - their black wings fanned out like stretched fingers as they face into the wind, seemingly stopping in mid-air, then gliding speedily away as if on a whim of flying anywhere - just for the total enjoyment of the blustery day.
"I think that rain is on the way, Gordon." Mum says.