Waterfowl use Port Meadow as a roosting place overnight. This short film looks at the waterfowl coming in during the evening, and how you can find peace in nature despite the hustle and bustle of the city. It is accompanied by a descriptive, poetic narrative, which tries to encompass the wonder I feel when watching them fly in every evening.
The mud slips under my feet, and my breath fogs in the air – crisp and cold
My nose is pink, pinched by the cold fingers of the early evening.
The last rays of sunlight are bleeding into the dark trees and rippling, glassy,
silver surface of the water.
And they come.
Their wings whistle if they are mallards –
a high-pitched whine cutting through the darkening sky like a knife through butter.
The Geese make their presence known through the honks and squawks –
like an orchestra tuning-up, but never quite reaching the final perfect-pitch.
As they come in to land towards the shimmering water, their honks intensify, keeping the flock together.
Occasionally one Goose tumbles away from the wedge
(the term for a group of flying geese)
and pirouettes gracefully towards the water’s surface alone.
Their calls compete with the city lights for which is louder.
But I know that nature’s orchestra will always dominate the night for me.
The calls of waterfowl filling the night,
Just like the moon’s glow fills the sky.