I’m used to seeing Swifts in Devon, high in blue skies, screaming. I spotted some recently in Reading, flying to and from a church tower. Today is the day I see one on Westray in Orkney:
It’s dark against the grey sky. It works the fields at Noup Head at shoulder height:
It’s there with us for two hours:
It’s not bothered about how close it flies to us:
It skims across the fields, low and incredibly fast:
Taking photographs of it is more like a computer game than anything else I’ve ever photographed.
As we walk back towards the car, I glance back and glimpse it there, still.