Denizens of ScrubLand

Mere moments before the blinding orb
of the sun, brilliant and immense in
appearance as it began its night shift
sinking below the horizon, casting a 
broad shimmering pink band across the 
landscape as dusk entered was suddenly
gone. The night sky so recently vacated 
of dark clouds crowding the heavens 
was transformed into soft blue velvet. 
And onto that winter nightscape was 
imposed a scattering of silhouetted
wide-winged birds their black outlines
barely visible against dark blue velvet
with numbers steadily increasing as an
ever-increasing horde maintained their
momentum to create in that moment of
drama a murder of crows crowding the
sky, silently stippling the ceiling of the
world with their destination-focused 
flight from a remote urban wasteland of 
warehoused goods to a nearby forest of 
wasted scrub characterized by twisted
and gnarled deciduous bush whose
growth had long been compromised by its
unfortunate position in a city's hinterland.