MG
(Lots of footsteps across, but only one set seawards...)
A grey day, air like butter and sea so still that when I cut through it it wrinkles like unset jam. I surface from a dive a long way from the shore and see a swallow swooping overhead. Treading water and twisting round to track it, I suddenly realise the sky is crowded with them. Attracted by the insects distrubed by my splashing, they are swooping and chattering all round me in a storming cloud. Then as suddenly as they appeared, they spiral up and cartwheel out over the sea until they are just flecks of pepper in the sky. They are practising for a longer flight over far more treacherous seas.
One to remember.
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