Chriping of Hundreds

I couldn't be sure when it had started - and was amazed I hadn't heard it begin.

Apart from an occasional cry of a gull or rumble of a passing car, all had been quiet when I had first gone out on the patio. Of course there was the constant trickle of the waterfall, but that sound was so commonplace that I took no particular notice.

Then, in the act of turning a page in the book I had brought along to read, I became aware of the commotion. Hundreds of birds were chirping - creating the kind of din one hears in an auditorium filled with people. Surprised by the onslaught of noise, I looked up expecting to see the neighboring field peppered with birds, only to see empty grass.  The ruckus originated further away in the distant treeline.

The avian chatter grew steadily in intensity, as though those birds who had already sought shelter in the trees were calling to their still flying fellows  quickly, come quickly, over here, quickly and I wondered what momentous event was about to occur.