Stood in the middle of a field and listened to a happy twirping of a lark that was fluttering high above me. Then I saw a windhover approaching, stand perfectly still in the air, the soft white of the flapping underwings caught in the sunlight. Then I saw a crow coming from directly behind the windhover and finally the two birds swooped. The crow flew on but the windhover went down.
I waited long but saw nothing more of that noble wind-dancer.