Poetry in motion

What an amazing sight! My flock of sacred ibis that wing their way overhead twice a day - sometimes hugging the mountain contours, sometimes the coastline and often low over the house so that I can hear the swishing of their wings - are gathering above me for the flight to roost in Hout Bay. They are high up, wheeling in two untidy knots, apparently undecided as to whether to fly in unison or as two separate flocks. They circle almost aimlessly,as if no bird wants to make the decision to be the tip of the V and carve a flight path through the air, making it easier for the following flock to take advantage of the slipstream.
The sun is low enough to shine on the underside of their white wings, tinging them a warm golden colour and making them stand out clearly against the pale blue sky. They soar and wheel as the wind carries them further into the distance, still undecided and now definitely two separate flocks of 20 to 30 birds.
And suddenly! Something clicks into gear and the leading bird in each flock turns its substantial beak towards Hout Bay, and every bird slips effortlessly and perfectly into a following V as if a choreographed corps de ballet. Such elegance. Poetry in motion.