Swift by name

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.