55- The birds

Smack, plish, whack,
at first I only heard it: birds raining down on the sea.
They came in a dense flock
drawn by schools of fish
and hit the water hard, leaving behind
satisfied boobies floating on the water.

As we drew near, they took wing,
flying at motor-boat speed,
keeping pace until
land forced a change in direction.

And when we finally rounded the headland,
there they were. Waiting.

The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.