High above a hilltop woodland, shapes were dancing in the darkening sky, like giant butterflies. There were about 40 of them, a silent… — High above a hilltop woodland, shapes were dancing in the darkening sky, like giant butterflies. There were about 40 of them, a silent flurry of swirling wings and tails. With a flap and a glide, they would melt away among the trees of oak, birch and pine. These were red kites at their winter roost, on the outskirts of the village where I lived in Hampshire, England.