Dark Omen

I photographed this scene in late winter, when the bare trees carried no leaves and the sky pressed low with heavy clouds. The flock of birds, startled into flight, scattered across the frame in uneven patterns. Their silhouettes against the pale backdrop gave the scene a sense of unease, as though the moment was charged with something more than simple movement.

Compositionally, I placed the trees as anchors, their skeletal branches reaching upward and outward, filling much of the lower frame. They serve as both structure and stage, while the birds provide rhythm and unpredictability. The flock is not evenly distributed—clusters form and break apart, guiding the eye from one section of the image to another. This irregularity adds to the tension of the scene.

Technically, the choice of black and white was instinctive. Colour would have distracted from the stark contrast between branches, birds, and sky. By stripping it back, the photograph becomes an exercise in line and form. Exposure was metered for the clouds, keeping them textured rather than blown out, while allowing the trees and birds to fall into pure black. The result is a silhouette that is sharp, clean, and graphic.

The photograph is not a literal omen, but the association is hard to avoid. Stripped of colour and set against a troubled sky, the flight of birds acquires symbolic weight. It sits between documentation and interpretation, showing nature as it was while hinting at something darker carried by the viewer’s imagination.