Lapwing
Lapwings were late summer visitors to the fields where my parents lived. In the evenings, you could hear their peep peep calls as they came in to land on the stubbles and little string of meadows that followed the river.
memoir
White Feather
Summer is ending and so is the second year with no house martins. I wanted to remind myself of time spent with house martins and so, here again, is my post from one of their last summers.