Home to roost

At the rising of the Moon

Our personal cohort of starlings, who have been spread out spending the day with us, congregate on the Old Ash Tree

Periodically they send up a scout to scan the Eastern horizon

Until they spot the rush hour coming

They rise up to join the throng

and are gone

until tomorrow,

Leaving the December Moon, sometimes named the Cold Moon

or the Moon of the Long Night

or, perhaps more optimistically, the Oak Moon

with the sky to herself.