The water swirled around her in a crimson pattern as a flock of brightly colored birds broke, shrieking, from the underbrush.

Two flocks of goats had broken from their corrals and run loose in the fields, causing as much crop damage as the rainstorm had.

A flock of starlings broke, chirping and squawking as they exploded from the trees.

In the distance, I watched as a flock of starlings broke from the trees.

A ragged flock of seagulls broke apart before them, wheeling and scattering.

Occasionally, flocks of starlings broke into flight as the car passed, moving in unison as if tethered together by string.

A flock of parrot-fish broke against his face, a wave of flamingos ruddied the sky; he waded ankledeep through a lush field of otters and rattlesnakes.

Monkeys fled, screaming in fright, and a flock of scarlet macaws broke like a streak of fire across the blue sky.

Through the lenses, the flock broke down to individuals, a mix of large and small birds.

Dozens, maybe hundreds, were calling and chirping, and every so often a flock of starlings would break from the trees, flying in formations that nearly seemed choreographed.