I too used to do that when I was a lad. My friend and I would stand under the bare branches of the tall trees in the woods and spinneys of the small estate I still shoot on, head craned upward looking for the rooks to come in to roost on their uncomfortable looking nests.
It would be as the light faded that they would fly in, squawking away. Once they settled onto a branch above, we would line up the bead of our .410s on their feet and fire, the flame from the muzzle well illuminated at that time of the evening. We would often get 20-30 in an evening. I recall splitting my thumb on the top lever on one occasion - my own fault in the excitement of the moment I guess.
Tim
