And Sunna is beaming down upon us. The summer is marked, here in the land of the south Saxons, by the Swifts. When their screaming scythe swooshes through the sky I know that Summer is here. Unlike the Martins and Swallows the Swifts only stay for summer - the 'proper' summer that starts at Beltaine, has midsummer at Litha and ends at Lughnasadh.
The Swifts, like the summer, were late this year; I only first heard them about 2 weeks ago now. Here's hoping they'll stay late :)
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