"THIS is the time of year when the sky screams. Swifts: the dark sickle-winged birds are reaching their peak numbers right now. They came here in spring to breed: they have succeeded, and now the sky is full of young swifts revelling in the might of their new wings, and celebrating life in what are charmingly known as screaming parties: hooliganing about in low-level runs and celebrating the swiftness of swifts with wild yells.
It is all part of the process of learning to be a swift. They are learning how to use their wings, learning how to feed on the wing, learning about the ways of the sky. As regular readers of this space well know, once a young swift sets off for Africa, it will be at least two, and possibly three years before they next perch on anything again: eating and even sleeping on the wing. There are miracles taking place above our heads.
Swifts are the most committed aeronauts in the world: and as they prepare for the epic journey to southern Africa, they cut, curvet, wheel and then join in a screaming party for the sheer hell of it. Early evening, round about drinks time: take an outdoor glass of something good and watch the skies. Raise your glass to the screamers."
There is something heart-warming in the fact that, even in the centre of Edinburgh, nature can still present a magic spectacle.
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