It's that dreaded time of year again. Time to say goodbye to the superstars of the sky - the swallows, and martens. They are beginning to gather, getting ready for their heroic journey to overwinter in South Africa. I watch them darting around in tandem, flying at breathtaking speed over the tops of the unharvested crops and I never cease to marvel at the built-in programme these lovely birds are hard-wired to follow. They know they have to head south for winter, and then they know exactly where to come back to next Spring. They travel through western France, across the Pyrenees, down eastern Spain into Morocco and across the Sahara. Some of their number follow the west coast of Africa avoiding the Sahara, which makes complete sense to me! They are little miracles. We haven't had the usual quota of swallows this year, which has saddened me. I hope this isn't a continuing trend. One of my aunts always used to say that once Wimbledon was over, it was downhill al
Welcome to the running wave, which I set up as a vehicle for my photographs, with some observational chat and occasionally a little writing. I hope you enjoy the things I enjoy, sharing my walks with Tilly and Ted, and other excursions I have from time to time.