There’s been a murder!

Not a real one, thankfully. It’s a murder of crows. In fact, it’s not even that: at least some of them are rooks.

They were on the big field at the leisure centre when I went for a run in the boiling heat, and they were there when I finished the run in the boiling heat.

If it weren’t for my running group, I would’ve probably stopped and walked. It’s good to be in a group. The rooks must think so, too.