They came as though from nowhere,
Melting into existence,
Wisps of grey against the silver streaks,
Wheeling and tumbling,
Bats returning at dawn.
Silent in the overhead, they catch the eye
And keep it until they’re gone.
Vanishing in the same arcane way.
As time paints over the silver with gold and blue,
Leaving me standing.
Staring at the sky.
ogginblog 
My neighbor has thousands of bats that stream out of his tejas each evening. I have fewer, but I have witnessed this morning return–amazing that they can swoop in so quickly and enter the tiny tunnel and get moved over quickly enough to allow the next bat to enter. Ah, nature…