There were fewer swallows nesting under the eaves of the tower in the garden of Little Orchard House, West Street this year. But after their fledging, we enjoyed watching the family of a half-dozen or so indulging in their aerial ballet. But swallows leave. The traditional image of their pending departure is of rows perched on telephone wires, but for Rye it seems that the departure terminal is – the tower. Quite suddenly one afternoon the roof and walls were literally smothered in swallows – at least 100! They settled, flew off in waves, and settled again. The following morning they had all gone.
Photo: Andrew Bamji
