Larner recently mentioned the wild geese calling as they pass overhead, something heard twice yearly as these majestic birds fly to summer breeding grounds or to winter rest. We always pause to hear their song, and thinking of this--and the fact that it's been too long since I've had any writing time--I looked up migrating birds in Britain. I read about swifts, which we also have in our part of the world, passing through in the early days of September, flying in clouds at evening before coming to rest in trees or dart down chimneys, signalling the end of summer and onset of autumn days, with winter not far behind.

***

Swiftly fly the passing days

It is dusk. As usual at this season -- when at home, at least -- Bilbo sits upon the bench before the smial, his pipe cradled in his hand and his eyes on the sky. Waiting.

Frodo, beside him, catches his breath as a flock of wild birds rise suddenly, bunching, undulating, ever higher, until they are lost to sight and only their voices remain.

Bilbo listens a moment, and sighs.

'Summer's nearly over. Soon they'll be gone.'

Frodo's heart sinks at the wistfulness in the old hobbit's tone. He never quite believes the old hobbit will leave all behind, and yet...

***

A/N:

For more information on swifts:

http://www.birdsofbritain.co.uk/bird-guide/swift.asp

(and apologies for the pun in the title. sometimes puns are hard to resist...)