Without words

The four cornered gulls tumble past, crying and screeching, chasing each other and flirting with the wind. I watch their white speed flashes from my tower window. They sit on lampposts and fight for the best perches.
In the street people noise drifts from under the raucous clamour of the birds.
Chatting.
Shouting.
The piercing beep beep beep of the pedestrian crossing.
“Come on,” a woman says to a child.
The insistent thump of car stereos, never to any tune or rhythm I can pinpoint from up here.
Wind ruffling through the leaves, showing me their silvered underbellies
Multiple people and creatures, clumping together.

The windowpane is cold to my fingertip, I stand back lest I mist it with my breath.

Written as an exercise at the Cardiff Bay Writing Group meeting; write of something (like silence) without using the words for it...