About this time of year, swifts start to fly south. For a few months they are part of the British summer. They sleep and feed on the wing. The screaming swifts are a common summer sound.
Then you realise they are not here. I am sure we'll see more still, but they are moving south. By September most will have gone.
Funny how I treasure the day when the first swift of the year is seen. To me, it is a sign that life goes on. This year we seem to have had fewer swallows and house martins. Luckily here swift numbers have held up. Several people have erected swift nest boxes.