Nature Trails by Richard Williamson
Swifts are falling angels in the sky. There are no birds like them in our land.
On warm sujmer evenings they hurtle in packs above the rooftops of our villages and towns and cities, squealing with excitement for joy of flight and life.
At close to 100mph swifts whirl round chimney pots, threading paths through air we cannot see and could never follow though we would wish.
For full story see WSG July 12