Endless Summer

'The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
For lack of tread are undistinguishable..'

Actually, today the sun is shining in London and the sky is blue. But yesterday was utterly grim - cold and grey, with rain siling down for much of the day. And yet, in the evening, as I headed homeward, staring glumly out of the train window - suddenly, somewhere around Mitcham common, there was another swift! One solitary bird, charging bravely through the gathering gloom... That's another four days added to my swift summer! Will it ever end?