Swifts, Hedgehog, Tortoise and Fox

 The swifts got off to a worryingly late start this year, thanks to the appalling May weather, but once they got going, they certainly made up for lost time. I don't think I've ever seen such large gatherings over our road – up to twenty at a time, I'd say (they're fiendishly hard to count), not quite blackening the sky, but covering quite a lot of what's visible above the suburban rooftops. Yesterday and today they've been going bonkers, in traditional swift fashion, flying low and fast, screaming past their nesting sites, streaking between the houses and over the roofs at incredible speed. This is the grand climax of the swift season – a glorious mad spectacle, but tinged with sadness by the knowledge that soon, in little more than a fortnight perhaps, they will most of them be gone, flying south for the winter. And a short while after that we'll see the last stragglers, quiet now and drifting ever southward. Summer's lease has all too short a stay...

Meanwhile, I learn that the tale of the death-wish hedgehog came to a predictably sad end. The poor thing settled without protest in its box, furnished with water and cat food in case it rallied, but by morning it was dead. At least it had escaped the attention of the local foxes – unlike next door's tortoise, a dignified veteran who must have survived much in his long life, but was so badly injured by a fox that he gave up the ghost. I guess establishing a suburban hunt is out of the question at this stage, but a few good shots patrolling with double-barrel guns would be a welcome sight (to me and my next-door neighbour at least). They could take out some of those pesky 'squirrels' too...