I was on the phone this afternoon to the PR and communications manager at Norfolk Wildlife Trust when five swallows flew past my window. Our conversation went something like this:
Marsh tit: Crumbs, five swallows have just flown past my window. I shall have to blog about that.
PR and communications manager: Well that's not very interesting, is it?
So Rebecca, how many times have you flown to South Africa and back?
We once moved with the sun like swallows. And to witness them doing that is to realise what we have lost.
The Running Sky
Could it be, I wondered, that our need for distraction, our mania for the new, was, in essence, an instinctive migratory urge akin to that of birds in autumn?