Paul Davidson
100 words 011
The swifts1 returned yesterday. I watched them through the skylight, feeding in the pink May dusk. Half a dozen were swooping around each other, looping Southwards past the house. They carried on diving playfully out of sight and I stayed to enjoy the evening light. A few seconds pass and three daddy longlegs bounce Northwards past the window, muttering panicked expletives to themselves.
The swifts repeated their show Northwards and, again, out of sight, beat, and a single dady longlegs flew back the other way.