The Condemned Oak Tree by Ada Rossi

Author:Ada Rossi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder mystery books, mystery books, cold case book, mystery books for adults, mystery and suspense books, mystery suspense books, cold case mysteries, cold case homicides, cold case solved
Publisher: Butterdragons Publishing
Published: 2022-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

November

Isn’t the light beautiful today? At this time of year, it’s at its best a little later in the day. I know it’s only three o’clock, but it’ll be dark before too much longer. The sky is almost clear of clouds, with warmth in its hue of blue. It may not be as brilliant as on a hot summer’s day, but the sensation of winter sunshine on my face is all the more welcome for it only turning up every now and then. When the sun is low like this, it is the perfect hour for those starlings, roosting over there on the upper boughs of the oak tree. The tree may have been late to gain its leaves but it lost them on the first breeze of autumn, and now it’s wearing a replacement cloak of starlings, more tightly packed together than the leaves ever were. Listen to them chirping away to each other incessantly, as noisy as a bus full of schoolchildren. Cheep, cheep, cheep. They can’t be quiet, nor can they be still. If you watch them, you’ll see that they are constantly dotting about, swapping places, so it’s impossible to keep tally of which one is where. I’m trying to choose one to focus on while we talk, but as soon as they hop branches, I lose track.

And there they all go. For no reason that I can see. Something must startle them, because every single starling lifts off the tree at the same time, all at once. Did you feel that whoosh as they lifted off? The impression of air rushing past our faces as it races to fill the gaps created by a thousand birds rising together. I don’t think I’m exaggerating about the numbers, my dear, do you? How bare the tree now looks, denuded once again. The murmuration may be flying across the fields now, like our own private air display, but they’ll be back. Round and up, flitting between silver and black as the birds shimmy and shake themselves. If we wait, some may break off and rest on that field, then they’ll take off and others will land behind them. They follow each other, you see. They like to sit on the telephone wires, particularly those across the far end of the field over there. But eventually they’ll return to the oak. Then they’ll disappear and we’ll think they’re gone forever, but behold, when you’re least expecting, they’re back on that wire. They line up on there, so much so that it stretches under their combined weight. It cannot quite hold them all, some bob off and go down to the ground. Others pop up to take their place. They take turns. They are mesmerising.

Would you believe, my dear, the starlings are sleeping on those telephone wires? Birds line up to sleep, you see, you can tell because the birds on each end face in different directions. Look, they’re coming back now, watch them organise themselves, can you see? Borrow my binoculars.

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