Standing at the compost heap with my binoculars this evening, I spotted my first two swifts of the summer, soaring apparently effortlessly in the strong, westerly wind.

A swift six summers ago.

I don't know why, but it always surprises me to see swifts soaring and gliding. For some reason, I would expect their sleek, fighter-plane design to require constant thrust. Fortunately for the swifts, they were unencumbered by such doubts, and seemed to be positively enjoying themselves, swooping up and down in the wind.

Swifts are back in town! All is right with the world.

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