“What are these little brown birds?” She asked.
“Sand martins, like house martins but smaller and browner, all the way from Africa,” I told her.
“Well, I did not know that! You learn something every day.”
The sand martins were circling overhead in little darting flocks. If you stood still near the crumbling clay cliffs the birds disappeared like a magic trick, but when you stood back, there they were crowding the cliff face. This year their tunnel nests have gone.
