That searing noise tearing across the sky.
The first time I’ve heard it this year.
It means only one thing: the swifts are back in Bristol.
They tear through the sky at breathtaking speed, eating flies on the wing. They are definitely on the list of creatures I’d like to spend a day in the life of.
Their UK population has declined by around 65% since 1995, so each return from their epic migration feels more precious than the last.
Maybe I’ll have a swift half to celebrate.