You watch murmurations of starlings on yet another night of rioting, and you want to know what the birds know. What draws them towards one another in dance. What keeps them so close together and what taught them how to gather, how to be so delicate with one another. You go into school. You sit with people who only see violent things – those things like bonfires and scorched skin, flags and kneecappings – on the news. Whose parents warn them not to be friends with weans who live on housing estates.
